Legacy of the Fathers
by Fyrie
Summary: Sequel to "Heir of Voldemort" - Xander is having trouble dealing with family issues. Giles calls for help from Xander's God-father and gets...Draco Malfoy? Ch. 10 ADDED - August 13th
1. Lost

Legacy Of The Fathers

Chapter One - Lost

Author's Notes: I actually had this sequel in mind immediately after I wrote chapter 19 of _Heir of Voldemort_. I know I have a ton of other stuff I should be working on, but I'm in a-certain-character-mode atm and...well...the other stuff I'm working on is kind of... certain-character-less, so this is what came of it.

Also, this looks like it could well turn into a mini-epic as well, although its going to be a lot more fun and less dark than HOV was (it will still have some semi-darkness cropping up, but not for a while). 

For anyone who doesn't know the back-story on this, I would suggest reading _Heir of Voldemort_, but if you don't wanna - here's a basic summary: Xander Harris (of Buffy the Vampire Slayer) is the Heir of Voldemort. His mum was forced to be Vol's consort and Xander was the result. Now, it's a year after the second fall of Vol, who later...uh... 'died' in Azkaban. Xander's mother is also dead. Can't you feel the joy?

____________________

"Xander."

His cheek resting on top of his left arm, which was folded on the table in the library in Sunnydale High School, eighteen-year-old Alexander Harris, the one son of Lord Voldemort and only Heir of Salazar Slytherin, was doodling on a scrap of paper.

Black curls of hair was flopping over his brown eyes, which were strangely haunted and shadowed, but he didn't seem to care. They were fixed on something beyond the paper he was etching on.

"Xander?"

A very attractive circle was taking shape on the piece of off-white paper, the tip of the pen scratching in black ink to fill it, covering over the over-happy smiley face that he had drawn two minutes earlier.

"Hey? Xander?"

A pair of horns emerged out of the top of the solid black circle and his pen drifted down to a blank corner, where he started to draw a pair of narrow, evil-looking eyes with vertical slits for pupils.

A hand touched his shoulder, making him visibly jump.

Two girls were staring down at him with concern on their faces.

"Xander, are you...okay?" Willow, the red-haired one asked carefully. 

He smiled at her, but none of his teeth were visible. His eyes remained sad, as he sat up and laid his pen down. "I'm good," he replied, although his tone of voice was anything but good.

"Xander, something's bothering you," Buffy, eighteen-year-old vampire Slayer, laid a hand on his shoulder. "You know you can tell us, right?"

His tired smile widened a little, forming creases in his cheeks, but still, none of his teeth appeared in that familiar wide grin he was known for. "Sure," he answered. "I guess I'm just kinda tired..."

Before they could pose further questions, he got to his feet and walked towards the swing doors, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans, his sneakers scuffing noisily along the polished floors.

"Do you..."

"Something is seriously bothering him," Willow interrupted before Buffy could finish her question. She twisted her hands together anxiously. "Something happened when he was away..."

Alexander had been whisked away by Rupert Giles, their guide, friend and mentor, a month before. Neither of the girls had been told where they were going, only that it was something to do with Alexander's mother.

Since he had arrived back, a week after he had departed, he had barely spoken.

He seemed to have turned in on himself, the turmoil that they could see in his eyes restrained within him. Distracted, exhausted and looking utterly miserable, nothing they had done or said had helped.

"I-I-I believe I have found..." Giles' voice trailed off at the sight of the girls gazing silently at the doors of the library, which were swinging slightly where Alexander had just disappeared through them. "Xander has gone?"

Willow nodded, turning to the librarian anxiously. "Giles, what happened to him when you were where ever you were?" she asked. "Why is he so not-Xandery? Who made him so sad?"

The Middle-aged Englishman sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing them on his shirt. "I-I-I'm afraid that only Xander can answer those questions, Willow," he replied gravely. "It isn't m-my place to-to-to say."

"But he won't tell us, Giles," Buffy added. "We've tried to ask him. We've told him we just want to help him and make him feel better," Willow nodded in agreement with her friend. "He...he won't tell us."

The Watcher looked towards the doors that were still swinging slowly.

"Give him time," he said quietly. "That is all I can suggest." The two girls nodded, exchanging worried looks. Giles wished he could be the one to explain exactly what had come to pass, but he knew that it was impossible.

It was Alexander who had to tell them, when he had finally come to terms with the enormity of just who and what he truly was.

"You were saying you had found something?" Willow asked carefully.

The watcher nodded, grateful that they weren't pursuing Alexander too closely. The boy was still numb with grief over the death of his mother. He needed time to think things over and his friends seemed to be able to sense it.

"I do believe I have the correct text," he replied, handing the book to the red-haired girl. "I marked the passage that seemed relevant..." Glancing at the clock over the library doors, he sighed. "Excuse me a moment."

Leaving the Slayer and her amateur witch friend poring over the hefty tome, the Englishman made his way around the counter and back into the office, closing the door behind him, cutting off all sound to or from the main library.

Sitting down at the desk opposite the door, he laid his glasses on the desk and picked up the receiver of the telephone. Tapping a series of numbers in rapidly, he leaned against the hard back of his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose as he waited for an answer on the other end of the line.

"Rayne," a familiar voice said.

"Ethan."

"Ripper?"

"Yes," Giles sighed. "Listen, its about Alexander."

He could almost see his former friend tense up. "What about him?"

"He's getting worse," he replied quietly. "He's barely said a word to anyone since we got him back and his friends are starting to worry. He won't speak to them or tell anyone what happened."

"You're surprised?" Ethan snapped, then sighed down the phone. "Christ, Ripper, just think what the kid went through. He finds out his dad isn't his dad. His mum is a witch incarcerated for being raped by his real father, who was a megalomaniac wizard who terrified and murdered whole generations of families in our world, which he also knew nothing about..."

"Well, yes..."

"Not to mention the fact that his beloved mum, the person he cared about most in the world, died because of him being who he was," Ethan continued as if Giles hadn't spoken. "And he was the cause of Voldemort's death..."

"WHAT?"

"Oh come on, Ripper, where are those brains we've heard so much about! Alex was in Azkaban on the day You-Know-Who so kindly went and popped his clogs. He had my wand with him. He had heard Fudge say the killing curse the day before. Can't you add it up?"

Giles was suddenly very relieved to be sitting down. "Good God..."

"I'll say," Ethan heaved another sigh. "Do you think I should hunt him down and give him a shoulder?"

"Aren't you...wanted in Sunnydale now?"

There was a pause. "Um...well, yes, I suppose I am..." he reluctantly replied. "I think that means I shouldn't show my face for the time being, unless I want my face and or my head to go missing..." He huffed a frustrated breath down the phone. "God...wish I could be there for the kid..."

Giles massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. "I would offer him my support, but I sincerely doubt that I have enough understanding of the situation to be of much assistance."

"Plus he thinks you're an arrogant prat most of the time," Ethan added.

"Ethan..."

"Hold on a tick...I just had a thought..."

He knew it was petty, but the watcher snidely inquired. "Did it hurt?"

"Shut up, you arse," Ethan retorted. "Look, do you know where Alex is just now?"

"At this precise moment, I have no clue whatsoever," the watcher replied, leaning back in the seat again. "I had been in my office and went to find Buffy and Willow. Apparently, Alexander had just departed."

"And you say you 'watch'," Ethan snorted derisively.

"I don't have eyes in the back of my bloody head, Rayne," Giles growled. "In case you didn't notice, I do have a Slayer to keep informed of dangers on the Hellmouth and she does tend to need some attention now and then."

"Ripper, we are talking about the son of Voldemort here," Ethan's voice was cold and scathing. "Think about this. If he gets to the state of depression where he doesn't care what happens, your Hellmouth won't mean bollocks. You have one of the most powerful untrained wizards in the world in your hands and if he decides he wants to end it all, you can guess again about stopping him."

"Xander would never..."

"Ripper, the Xander you knew two months back isn't the same a the one we brought home with us. We both know it."

"But he is a good boy..."

Ethan sighed. "Yeah," he admitted. "But he's never had to deal with losing his mum and killing his own father before, has he? That kid is going to have some serious issues to deal with and if someone can't be there for him..."

"You honestly think the power could touch him?"

"Touch him? Ripper, he's swimming in the stuff. We discussed this before and you know I'm right about the kid. If I had been him, I would have blown that Ministry panel to pieces just to show them I was serious about getting Cass out of Azkaban," A melancholy note filtered into Ethan's voice. "We're just lucky that the boy has some sense of control. He has more power than either of us ever did. I'd guess even more than his old man. He would have to, to be able to do him in like that."

"But he doesn't know how to use it."

"Which makes him all the more dangerous."

Giles squeezed his eyes shut. "We...we need someone who can talk to him."

"Which brings us back to my original though that you ignored," Ethan said coolly. "I have an idea, but you'd need to find out where the boy is. Do you have any clue, anything at all, where he might be?"

"My only assumption is anywhere that his friends would not look for him."

"A cemetery?"

"Too obvious."

"Home?"

"He has been staying at my home, since we returned, but I doubt he would go there at this time of day. He wouldn't return to his own home. He doesn't wish to face his adoptive father and there are too many memories."

"Can't say I blame him," there was a brief silence. "Ripper, would your flock of nice girls ever go near a pub?"

"Only to beat up the demon-serving owner."

Giles could visualise Ethan's smile of relief. "Then we've found where our boy will be hiding out. I'm going to get in touch with someone who might be able to help him where we can't."

"Do I want to know?"

"It's probably safer if you don't for now," Ethan replied with a chuckle. "Don't you worry about our boy. He just needs someone who can give him a nudge back in the right direction. Someone who owes me a favour or ten."

"Ethan, this better not be one of your demon girls."

"Don't worry, Ripper, he'll be in safe hands. Trust me."

Before he could comment, the line went dead and he wearily placed the receiver back in it's cradle, a ponderous look on his face. "You let anything hurt that boy and I'll kill you myself, Ethan," he muttered.

He didn't notice the puzzled looks that were exchanged by a blonde-haired Slayer and a red-haired witch, who had been listening on the other side of the glass of the office window.

***

"Look, buddy, I don't wanna say no, but you're too young..."

Alexander's dark eyes narrowed at the barman. "Willy, shut up."

"All right, buddy, all right, just don't expect me to give you booze..." the barkeeper said uneasily, twisting a dishrag between his hands. "You can sit, but I don't think my customers are going to like it, if you know what I mean."

"I just want to sit, okay?" Alexander sat down heavily on the stool beside the bar, resting his bare forearms on the cool surface and lowering his chin to the spot where his wrists crossed.

The small pub was usually visited more by demons than it was by humans. A few of them had given the teenager dirty looks when he had pushed through the strings of beads that hung over the door, but he had ignored them.

Yes, it was a gloomy little dive, illuminated by a few tacky neon lights on the walls, with a few booths along one of the dirty walls, some tables scattered here and there and a grimy bar, lorded over by an equally sleazy little barkeep by the name of Willy, but it was away from his friends and their questions and worry, which was all her really needed now.

Gazing sightlessly at a point beyond the counter and beyond the dusty bottles of various spirits, Alexander sighed wearily, his chin comfortably positioned on his folded arms.

Again and again he found himself replaying his mother's last few moments in his mind and he wished, just wished that he had been able to have five minutes longer, two minutes, one minute...anything...

It had been so sudden.

One moment, she had been there, talking to him in a shaky breath, then...nothing. 

She had slipped through his fingers, just like that.

Closing his eyes, he could feel tears burning behind his lids and drew a calming breath. Crying wouldn't bring her back. Crying in a demon bar, while surrounded by demons looking for an easy victim definitely wouldn't be helpful either.

He almost chuckled at that logic.

What, he wondered, would they say if they knew who he was? 

Who his father was...

Ethan had, on the flight across to Britain a month earlier, explained something about his biological father, about how infamous he truly was. Something about almost every demon being aware of and afraid of him, because he was so powerful.

Would the demons sitting around him be afraid of him if he stood up and announced his real identity? Or would that make him an open target, since he clearly was utterly defenceless and more muggle than magic?

It was worth considering.

Not that he would use the powers his father had cursed him with, unless it became absolutely necessary.

As much as he could feel the strength of the magic rippling through his veins, he knew it was that very power in his blood which had turned his father into a monster that the world had come to fear.

On the way back from Britain, when Giles and Ethan had thought him to be fast asleep, they had spoken in hushed voices about his power and were in agreement that he was probably equally powerful when compared to his father.

Or more powerful.

More powerful than the most infamous wizard in the wizarding world's history. 

Yes, there were other wizards who were infamous, but none for the reasons that his father was renown: Merlin and Dumbledore being two that Ethan and Giles had both mentioned in passing.

Yet, it always came back to Voldemort.

Shaking his head, Alexander released a sigh. 

All he had ever wanted was a normal, everyday, regular family. A mom and dad and maybe a brother or a sister or both. And a dog. Every proper, regular, everyday family had a dog.

And what did he have?

An ex-witch for a mother, who had been sent to a wizarding jail because of who she had been forced to sleep with, lost her mind, then died before he had a chance to let her know how much he loved her.

A psychotic, power-crazy wizard who had tried to take over the world several times as a biological father. 

An alcoholic ex-football player with a vendetta against the world as a step-father. 

A demon-worshipping ex-wizard as a God-father.

A Slayer and a witch as best friends.

And, perhaps strangest of all, a cheer-leader as an ex-girlfriend.

He almost grinned at the weirdness that was his life. 

And he had never even got the dog.

Letting his mind wander, he registered the sound of someone approaching the bar, the stool next to him being pulled out and the sound of leather clothing squeaking against the worn leather of the stool seat.

"All right," a vaguely familiar voice said. "Get me a bottle of your best and most expensive whisky and don't try to fob me off with any old crap."

Willy mumbled something and scuttled off. He was back moments later and there was a clunk as a bottle was placed on the surface of the bar. 

Alexander slitted his eyes open and glanced sidelong to see a bottle of Scotch sitting less than a foot from his head. He was sorely tempted to grab it and run, but sighed and settled for closing his eyes again.

Some coins rattled on the bar top and Alexander heard them scrape across the surface as Willy claimed them.

"Hey! What the hell are these meant to be?"

"They," the voice replied. "Are called coins. Money if you prefer. I did hear that people in this miserable corner of the world used such a thing."

"But they ain't dollars, pal!"

"They're solid gold. They're round. They shine. They can be used to buy whatever you like," the male voice said politely, in a tone that still managed to suggest that Willy was incredibly stupid. "You take them and stop complaining or I take them all back, bash your face in with this bottle, then show you just how many I can shove up your arse before you pass out."

"Uh..."

Alexander couldn't help snickering.

He had only ever seen Buffy threaten Willy before and to hear someone else do it with such polite proficiency was amusing.

"So, are you quite satisfied with my mode of payment?"

"Uh...yeah...yeah, I think I'll...I'll...uh take the money...and leave you to...uh...enjoy your drink, sir."

There was a patronising chuckle. "I thought you might," the young man's voice said, then Alexander jolted, as an elbow jabbed him rudely in the ribs. "And you, would you please stop tripping over your face? I come here to get pissed and I really don't need to feel like I'm sitting next to the most depressed prat in the world."

Turning to retort to the man next to him, Alexander's mouth fell open in shock, his eyes wide. "You!"

Draco Malfoy's pale face split into a grin. "Nice to see you too, arse-bandit," he said cheerfully, shaking the full bottle of whisky in his hand. "Now, if I remember right, we have some unfinished business."


	2. Two Of The Same

Legacy Of The Fathers

Chapter Two - Two Of The Same

Author's Notes: All right, I'll admit it. I've been dying to do this story since _Heir Of Voldemort_ 19 came to light! Something no where near as grim or dark as HOV, but with the fun relationships I initiated in that series. Especially the Draco/Xander friend thing that happened. I _like_ it! 

And since this is only chapter two – I'm gonna do thanks from here on in :) 

Collie – Yay! I have a bitch :D This is getting posted earlier than planned just cos you're my bitch :D

Drina – this timeline is late season three (after Xander has been getting some smooches from Willow)

chaosdragon – oh, you have no idea how bad Xan and Draco are for each other ;)

Carms – The possibilities is right! My boys are baaaaaaaaaad ;)

Trinastardust – so you like Draco threatening Willy? *evil grin* just you wait… ;)

Amber – Draco meeting Will and Buffy…let me just say that its going to prove interesting…very, very interesting… poor girlies…no idea what they're in for ;)

KiraMarie – Draco certainly isn't the best of influences for poor Xanpet to have, is he?

Obsidian – Xander is certainly centric to this story. And Draco. And the fun! Muahaha! I know, I know, I'm evil :)

Smile7499 – Don't worry – Buffy will be featuring quite a lot in this one :D Again, I have to feel sorry for the poor girl ;)

Jinni – eeh! Did I mention I love your stuff too? :D I love it!

Lia – Hmm…Draco/Will. I did consider it, but I'm not going to give anything away :)

dljewel - *grins* Hopefully I'll be able to keep this one updated regularly

lady sakura – you and me both!

Jazzpizza – poor angsty Xan. Let me say for the record that I pull no punches :)

Amelia – here ya go! More as requested ;)

Vegakeep – trouble doesn't come close to what's going to happen ;)

Haven – fellow Malfoy lover! Yay! Unfortunately, no Lucious Lucius for me this time. I pout!

Riverchic1998 – thanks :D Big blushes here!

And now, I'm done with the thanking youse (twenty-ish reviews for one chapter! Hear me squeal with glee!), on to the fic! I hope you like!

_________________________ FICTION HERE________________________

"You!"

Draco Malfoy's pale face split into a grin. "Nice to see you too, arse-bandit," he said cheerfully, shaking the full bottle of whisky in his hand. "Now, if I remember right, we have some unfinished business."

Alexander stared at him. His mouth was open, question upon question crossing his mind, then being overlapped by another. He managed to blink at the wizard, which felt like a major accomplishment.

"So..." Draco remarked several minutes later. "You just sit there and keep right on doing that cracking impression of a fish and I'll drink this, okay?"

"You...you're here!"

The blond wizard smirked. "You're so observant it astounds me," he managed to reply before the younger man scrambled off his stool and yanked him into a tight hug that practically lifted him off his own stool. "Harris! Geroff! I'm not into all that kinky man-to-man stuff!"

"God...I never thought I'd see you again!"

"Yes, well, there was nothing in the paperwork about being victim to a...what would you call that thing you just did?"

"A hug?"

Draco sniffed. "Yes, one of them. I hate to be the one to inform you, Harris, but I'm too manly for such rampant displays of affection."

Alexander's face split in the first genuine smile he had felt in weeks. "And you are still such a butt-monkey, Malfoy," he replied, sitting back down on his stool. "What are you doing here anyway? And," he noticed. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Draco glanced down at his clothing. "It's some kind of shoddy muggle-wear so I don't stand out too much," he replied with an aggrieved sigh, then grinned and tugged at the lapels of his leather duster. "Although, it's not actually that bad, considering. Especially this coat."

Alexander looked him up and down and couldn't help grinning back. If Spike, the infamous vampire, had ever had a clone, it had appeared in the form of the wizard known as Draco Malfoy.

Unlike the last time they had seen one another, Draco's uncontrolled blond hair was slicked back against his head and he was wearing black jeans so tight they looked like they were painted on, a black T-shirt with a blood-red shirt over it and the black, leather duster which had been Spike's trademark.

"Where'd'you get the idea that was a regular muggle look?"

Draco, who was trying to work out how to open the bottle without magic, raised his grey eyes to Alexander. "The look? Saw a bloke on my way in. Decided I could pinch his jacket at least."

Taking the bottle and twisting the cap off easily, the dark-haired youth was still staring at the jacket. "This guy you stole it from...was...did he have hair the same colour as yours?"

"As a matter of fact, he did," Draco replied, holding out a rather greasy-looking glass, waiting while Alexander poured some of the amber liquid into it. "Bloody prat tried to bite me."

"What did you do?"

Shrugging, Malfoy knocked back the first glass full of whisky. "Kneed him in the bollocks, took his jacket and left him."

"No magic?"

"Well, unless you include a full body-bind..." the blond sighed, tutting sadly. "I really despise it when people are rude enough to try and bite me without asking for permission first...what's so funny?"

"You," Alexander replied, smiling, really smiling, for the first time in months. "You didn't realise that you were attacked by a vampire and that you just stole the jacket that he's never been seen without? He's not going to be happy about this," Alexander had to laugh. "When you make enemies, you do it well."

"Vampire?" Draco's brow furrowed slightly, as he let Alexander refill his glass, the amber liquid sloshing up the sides. "I suppose that does explain those awful eyes...and the bloody great big teeth."

"Yeah, the teeth are a bit of a giveaway..." the younger man said, swirling his own drink in his glass. "That still doesn't explain why you've decided to show up in good old Sunnydale."

Malfoy studied Alexander, then gave him a lop-sided smile. "Well, you know me, Harris," he drawled. "Haven't had much to do since the fall and defeat and what have you, so I thought I'd drop by."

"Draco..."

"Oh, all right then, Rayne and Giles both have been getting their knickers in a knot over you," he exhaled a breath. "They expected that I might be able to talk to you in a way they can't."

"You mean, you can get away with calling me an arse-bandit without being afraid I'll have a nervous breakdown?"

"Harris, I'd call you an arse-bandit even if you did have a nervous breakdown," the other man shot back. "They called me in because they're all..." he pulled a face at the very thought. "Sensitive. They wanted someone who could cut out the 'we're here for you and truly care' crap."

Alexander studied him. "You did come though. You didn't have to."

"Don't you start getting any delusions that I might like you, Harris," Malfoy pointed a finger at him, aiming for a sullen scowl, which was belied by the rare warmth in his silver-grey eyes.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Draco," the dark-haired boy replied. "After all, the world would shift on it's axis if word came out that there was a Malfoy who actually cared about someone apart from himself."

"Prat."

"Prick."

"Son of a snake!"

"Son of a slimeball!"

Draco quirked a brow upwards. "I didn't know you had met my father."

"Like father like son," Alexander gave him a wicked smirk, which earned him a light slap across the back of his head and an almost believable scowl from the blond-haired wizard. "Hey!"

"Do I insult you and your father?"

"Yes, actually!"

Draco gave that a moment of consideration. "Well, yes, I suppose I do..." he said with a small smile, his eyes twinkling. "Oops?"

"Oops, my ass," Alexander grumbled half-heartedly, pouring himself another half-glass of the whisky provided by Willy. "You just like being a pain in the butt," he winced as he swallowed the liquid. "And is it me, or is this stuff disgusting?"

"Right on the pain in the arse thing and yes, that stuff is vile," Draco glanced across the bar and into the room beyond, where Willy had hidden himself. "I told him I didn't want cheap crap. He gave us cheap crap," he sighed. "I hate it when I don't get what I want."

"Hate how much?"

"Hate enough to make him dance on the tables until he passes out from exhaustion."

Alexander raised his brows. "Is that legal?"

"Well, it doesn't hurt him...much," Draco replied with a shrug, his eyes glittering oddly by the neon red lights on the opposite side of the bar. "And when he's been dancing for three hours, he might confess where he hid the decent booze."

"Sounds good to me," Alexander pushed himself to his feet. "And I always figured that Willy would have a bizarre way of dancing so hey! It might even be kinda funny as well."

***

"I feel like doing something...something fun."

"You mean something more funny than making that amusing barman dance on top of his bar to the can-can?" Both men leaned sideways to look through the doorway at Willy, who was sitting on the floor and whimpering, his feet plunged into the ice bucket. Draco grinned and gave him a wave. 

"I said fun, not funny."

Draco rolled his eyes expressively. "I doubt we can find anything more entertaining than that..."

"Well, being a little drunk is always a good start," Alexander's lips rose in a bleary grin, as he groped out for the glass on the counter and lifted it, making a whimpering sound of disappointment when he saw that it was empty. "Makes you feel all kinda... nice, y'know..."

"You really can't hold your liquor, can you?" the blond man sighed, as Alexander's swayed heavily in his direction. He caught the younger man by the arm, holding him upright, while groping into his pocket with his other hand. "Here."

Fortunately for them both, the pub was deserted, most of the demon patrons fleeing as soon as Willy had started doing the most bastardised version of the Flashdance dance routine that the world had ever seen on the bar, leaving both young men to get rather pie-eyed.

Alexander had already exceeded expectations and looked like he would probably fall straight onto the floor if Draco moved away.

"Whatsit?"

Draco lifted the capsule and held it in front of Alexander's mouth. "Just shut up and open up," The drunker of the two young men started laughing at that. "Look, you silly sod, I didn't mean for you to drink a whole bottle of the stuff on your own. Open your bloody trap!"

"What is it?"

"Something to stop you falling on your arse."

"Aaaaaaah..." Alexander opened his mouth and Draco dropped the pill between his lips, hastily wiping his hands on his jeans and stepping back as his companion's head fell forward with a loud thump on the bar top.

The small, round amber capsule was probably the last thing that Alexander would have wanted or needed had he been sober enough to make the decision, especially since he had gone to all the effort of getting drunk out of his tree.

Produced by Snape, reinstated to his position at Hogwarts, the capsules were to eradicate the effects of alcohol on the system. Alexander had drunk almost a full bottle of whisky in the two hours that they had watched the barkeeper dance, so Draco knew the pill would take a few minutes to work.

Unfortunately, most of the people who had used the capsule hadn't been too pleased that the warming, numbing effects of alcohol had been removed and that was when they had taken the pills of their own free will.

Which meant that Alexander wasn't going to be...

"You bastard!" Draco grimaced as his companion's white face was lifted from the bar top, a vivid red patch in the middle of his forehead, where it had smacked off the wooden surface. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"I'm not good at controlling drunken lunatics so I thought I better get you sobered instead of leaving you here with the nice man we tormented for three hours," the blond replied, still staying a reasonable distance from the son of Voldemort. "And for all you know, I could have been poisoning you."

Alexander scowled. "I was drunk," he said. "I wanted to be drunk."

"Well, you got to be drunk for half an hour, fell over into my arms - which you really have to stop doing - and made a right show of yourself," Draco said, his hands on his hips. "And now, I'm bored, so can we get out of this dump?"

"I hate you," the dark-haired youth growled, unsteadily getting to his feet. "God damned English son of a bitch..."

"Ahem, but you're a god damned English son of a bitch too, as you seem to you have conveniently forgotten, you prat," the polite reply came from his companion, who was smirking at him, his arms folding over his chest. "English father. English mother. Born in England...see where this pattern is leading?"

"You..."

One brow rose, as if challenging Alexander to correct him. 

Exhaling a breath, the dark-haired youth tried to maintain his glare, but it faded into a reluctant half-smile. "You really are an arrogant jerk."

"Never denied it for a moment. In fact, I'm known to thrive on it."

"And you took away the nice, warm fuzziness that all that stuff gave me."

"On the plus side, you don't have a hangover," said Draco.

There was a moment's silence.

"I guess that is a kinda good thing," Alexander reluctantly admitted, with a weak smile in Draco's direction. "So, why did you ruin my fun? Why did you need me standing up?"

"Like I said," Draco replied. "I'm bored. Who do we torture for fun around here?"

"Draco!"

The wizard's face split in a grin that Alexander had only ever seen on the face of the vampire known as William the Bloody. "Just kidding, Harris," he said, eyes glinting with mirth. 

"I can never tell with you," Alexander replied. "And can you please just call me Xander, or something? I'm not used to being called Harris...I'd rather not be called that name."

Draco studied him. "Well, you do have quite a wide selection of names, you know. You could be Bones, Riddle, LaVelle, Harris..."

"Draco."

"Mind you, I think personally I would avoid LaVelle..."

"Draco."

"But if I called you Riddle," Draco continued, ignoring his companion. "There might be people who would..."

Alexander's lips quirked upwards as he practically shouted. "Ferretboy!" 

Vivid patches of pink appeared on Malfoy's pale face, his silvery eyes snapping to Alexander's face, a smirk to rival his own on the Heir of Slytherin's lips. "What did you call me?"

"Just a little story that Ginny told me, Draco," Alexander said, his expression one of innocence, his eyes glimmering with a barely covered smile. "Something about Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret."

"I'm going to bloody well kill her!"

"I don't think you are," Alexander chuckled, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were glinting with amusement. "If you did, her creepy, black-wearing boyfriend would use your insides for his potions."

"True..." the blond sighed wearily. "Damn. Its so bloody hard to get revenge these days, what with all the laws and psychotic boyfriends..." He gave Alexander a cursory look. "So, what are we doing, Harris?"

"F..."

"All right, all right," He held up his hands. "Snakeboy."

Alexander's dark brown eyes narrowed to slits. "Don't make me go all dark lordy on you, Ferret," he said in a soft voice, one hand pointing at the blond's face. "I could so kick your ass right now."

"See me quivering."

"I thought quivering was more for the sex..."

"Not that you would know anything about that," Draco smirked. "But oh yes, you're just such a lust-bucket," He fanned himself with a hand. "I feel quite overcome!"

"Are you being very English or very gay?"

"Harris!" Draco groaned. "You take the fun out of everything! Do I really need to say that I want to shag you senseless?"

"You better be joking about that..."

Draco gave him a solemn look, his lower lip drooping slightly. "Are...are you saying that you don't want me, Xander? A-after everything?" Alexander stared at him in a combination of confusion and horror. 

"Draco, please say you're joking..."

There was a prolonged silence, in which Draco buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

"Draco...?"

The shaking of the shoulders grew more pronounced.

"Draco, c'mon..."

The blond's head jerked up, tears of laughter streaming down his face. "My God, Harris!" he managed to say, between chortles. "How ego-centric are you? Of course I don't fancy you!"

Alexander looked torn between smacking the wizard across the head or laughing along with him. Drawing a slow breath, he calmly said, "What did I tell you about calling me Harris, Ferret?"

"I can't quite recall, Snake," Draco chuckled, wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands. "So, what's the plan? Is there somewhere in this gloomy hole that we can go that might be a little more entertaining than this dump."

Alexnader shrugged. "The Bronze?"

"You go to a piece of metal for fun?"

"It's a kind of social club place, you ass."

"Wizard-born, muggle-breath," Draco retorted. "How am I meant to know?"

"Wizards don't have clubs?"

"Apparently not."

There was another long moment of silence.

"What's a club anyway?"

***

"Do you think Xander's all right?"

"I think so," Willow replied to Buffy's question, studying the glass of cola she had in front of her, a pensive expression on her face. "Its just that Xander has never done anything I didn't know about before...apart from the whole Cordelia thing...we...we used to tell each other everything."

The Slayer and the witch were seated in the Bronze, at one of the few tables, each of them mulling over a soft drink. The building was bustling as usual, teenagers from fifteen up roaming the floors in search of a conquest.

"If it was something real serious, he'd tell us, right?"

"Right!" Willow agreed emphatically. "I-I mean we're like bestest best buddies!"

Buffy, however, seemed a little distracted.

"Holy..."

"What is..."

Willow had noticed exactly 'what' was being looked at, her mouth falling open at the sight of the figure who had just entered through the side door of the Bronze, far too cool looking to be within the shabby walls.

"Omigod..." the Slayer mumbled. "Oh...my...God..."

"Yuh-huh..." Willow whispered in agreement.

Yes, he had the look of Spike about him, but whoa!

He was definitely hottie material.

Tall, broad in the shoulder and narrow in the waist, the young man paused where he had entered, casting a casual look around the club. A duster hung to his ankles, one hand casually on his hip and pulling the jacket back from his torso.

Unfortunately for most of the females - and a few of the males - present, that had the effect of showing off the washboard stomach that was visible through the tight black T-shirt he was wearing. 

His face was angular and sharp, with cheekbones that could cut diamond, and there was a slight lift in his lips that suggested he knew exactly why the whole place had gone silent as soon as he stepped in. 

Silver-blonde hair was slicked back over his pale features, his equally pale eyes taking in everything around him. 

His hand falling back down by his side, he strode - catlike - into the club, towards the bar, lazily ignoring all the lowered voices that had immediately started to babble questions around him.

"Have you ever...?"

"Nuh-uh..."

Buffy and Willow exchanged looks.

This was certainly a change for the Bronze. 

Very rarely, if ever, was there a guy who was such pure, wild A-class hottie material that neither of them knew, either from their school or through a friend or a neighbour or an associate.

"He looks kinda like Spike," Willow said carefully.

Buffy nodded. "I'll have to watch out for him," she decided. "Just in case he's a vamp or something..."

"Sure," her friend snickered. "Just in case he's a vamp. Right."

The Slayer tried to look offended, then grinned. "Wanna help?"

"Sure!"


	3. Bronzing It

Legacy Of The Fathers

Bronzing It

Author's Notes: I know this chapter has taken a bit longer to come out than 1 & 2 did, but - unfortunately - real life decided to distract me (for anyone who really wants to know - it was the fault of a Renaissance presentation about Revenge Tragedy involving light sabers, lemon meringue pie with barbies in it, paper crowns and flowery bed sheets... (We can also blame When Harry Met Buffy, the vilest piece of sappy fluff I've ever been fool enough to write. I feel ill thinking about it. And people actually LIKE it! What are you? Crazy?!?!)). 

Collie - here's my penance for the size of When Harry Met Buffy. Happy now? :-P

Also, this story is plotted out entirely. It will go to 20 chapters at least. And to those who asked about certain characters, patience is a virtue ;) And if I wanna write many big Draco/Xander scenes, I will. Tis my fic after all *evil grin* And the thank yous are at the end this time :)

_________________________

Surveying the Bronze, Faith stretched her arms out by her sides, looking around with a smirk on her lips. Without Buffy to hold her back, she was ready to party with the best-looking guys she could find.

Wearing her black leather pants, a gift from her new Boss, and a skimpy square of shimmering black fabric tied over the front of her body, she knew she was getting a whole lot of attention.

Not enough though.

Brown eyes scanned around the crowded club.

Someone had taken centre-stage in her place, although he was acting like he didn't even know it. Tall, young, smirking, white-blond hair, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass on.

Lounging casually against the bar, his back against it, both elbows resting on the gleaming surface, his pale eyes were lazily wandering the bar. Clad in black, with a flash of red, his pale, pointed face held an aloofness she had never seen before.

Kinda like he was King of the Playground and knew it, but pretended he was too cool to give a damn. Kinda interesting and different. Not many guys could get away with it without lookin' like arrogant jerks. 

Hello, cutie...

Starting forward, Faith grinned.

She had her target.

The barman appeared behind the bar and handed the man a drink. The blond straightened up and strolled off into the seething mass of people. Faith growled softly, as someone pushed past her, shoved them away.

"Faith," a voice said from beside her and she mentally groaned. 

"B," she replied neutrally, without having to look around to see who had spoken to her. She heard a rustle of fabric and turned to see Buffy crossing her arms over her chest, hazel eyes cool. "Lookin' good, B."

"What are you doing here?"

Faith's dark eyes glittered. "Checkin' out the hotties, B, nothin' more."

"Uh...huh..."

"You think I'm out for trouble every night, big sister?" Faith remarked, stepping forward, raising a hand to pat Buffy's cheek patronisingly. She smirked when Buffy stepped back, her expression icy. "You gotta stop thinkin' in one dimension, baby."

"Faith..."

"Don't start preachin' to the unconvertible, B," the brunette said coldly, her false smile replaced with an ugly scowl. "I don't need you bein' all holier than thou. You already helped me enough."

The other Slayer's hazel eyes narrowed a little. "I'm just warning you, Faith."

"Yeah, B," Patting the blonde patronisingly on the cheek once more, Faith swung around and strutted off among the clubbers. She could almost feel the anger burning out from the blonde Slayer.

Moving out onto the crowded dance floor, she initiated an erotic-looking bump-n-grind between two good-looking seniors, who didn't seem to mind at all that she was rubbing up against both of them.

Unfortunately, her brief run in with Buffy the Wonder Slayer had brought her mood right down.

Winding up as many guys as possible just didn't seem like fun.

Growling again, wishing she could show B's face her appreciation with a fist, Faith stalked off the floor, ignoring her two dance partners cries of protest, pushing her hair back from her face, as she looked around.

Her target.

He could be a distraction.

He had the sexy bad-boy look going for him anyway. Now...to find him...

***

Dropping onto the stool at the high table, Draco Malfoy looked around the bustling teenagers with clear interest, placing his plastic tumbler of some kind of cheap beer on the table in front of him.

"So this is a club," he remarked dryly, his upper lip curling. "I can honestly see why you would like spending so much of your free time here."

Leaning against the steel girder behind his stool that served as a support for the club and the boy at that moment, Alexander Harris didn't even bother looking at his friend, making a rude gesture with one hand. 

As soon as they had entered the Bronze, a few minutes earlier, he had slunk off to find a table, while observing the young wizard. Draco had strutted about the club like he owned the place and much to Alexander's subdued amusement, people had treated him as if he were right.

"Mr. Harris!" Draco gasped, feigning shock. "How impolite!"

"Like you didn't expect that," Brown eyes opened and gave him an amused look, a smirk on Alexander's lips. "Mom told me sarcasm is the lowest form of wit. Looks like its your only form...hello, bottom of the witty ladder."

"Are you implying that I'm not funny, Snake?" 

"Not implying. Never waste time with implying," Alexander replied, sitting up and resting his forearms on the table in front of him. "All out saying it, Ferret. You have no sense of the funny."

"Damn, you've gone and hurt my feelings now," Draco put on a hurt expression, jutting out his lower lip as he leaned forward on the tall, round table. "I think I should run and cry like a sissy girl...oh, wait! That's your job."

"Bite me, Ferret."

"In your dreams, Snake."

The biting words that were directed from one to the other were undercut by the rueful smiles that the two young men exchanged, knowing that anyone who overheard their conversation was liable to think they were both crazy.

And who was to say they were wrong?

Draco's eyes returned to the seething mass of people around them, the smell of sweat, moist heat and stale air filling the whole club, along with the reek of too much body spray, hair spray, second-hand tobacco smoke, cheap alcohol and other scents that all screamed one thing: teenagers.

"This is what you actually did in your free time?"

"Not like there was anything else to do," Alexander shrugged. "It was this, or working from Slayer central. Sometimes, its kinda nice to just sit in here instead of working on demons and vampires."

"I can't believe you talk about vampires and demons and hell-beasts-from-the-underworld as if they're everyday occurrences."

"They are here," Alexander nodded towards the band that had just moved onto the stage. "The bassist in that band is a werewolf." Draco stared at Alexander, then at the small, pale-faced youth with rainbow hair.

"That's a werewolf?"

"He's a werewolf," Alexander corrected. "Willow's dating him."

"Dating?"

"Oh yeah...American slang," There was a pause. "He's seeing her?"

Draco gave Alexander an exasperated look. "I do know what dating is, you prat," he said. "I just never thought that a werewolf would find someone who would be willing to date him."

"Well, he did almost eat her on their...I think it was their third date," A faint smile of reminiscence crossed Alexander's face and he watched his fingertips tracing circles on the tabletop. "Once you get passed that, you know your relationship can survive anything, I guess."

"Xander."

The dark-haired youth's expression tightened and he looked to his side. Another tall, lean, dark man stood there. He looked a little older than both Draco and Alexander, his dark brown eyes warily glancing at Draco.

"Angel," Alexander said. "I would say its nice to say you, but hey! Its not."

Draco snorted with laughter over his tumbler of beer, receiving a dark look from Angel, who looked him over suspiciously. "What?" he demanded, arching an eyebrow at the dark man. "It was funny."

"Friend of yours?"

Alexander nodded. "Not that its any of your business," he said quietly. "What do you want anyway?"

"I'm looking for..."

"Buffy," Alexander cut in. "Haven't seen her. Wouldn't tell you if I had."

Angel's expression darkened again and Draco was almost convinced he saw a flicker of gold in his eyes. He prowled off, merging into shadows and huddles of chattering people that seemed to be lining the walls of the club.

"Cheerful bloke," the blond remarked.

"Vampire," Alexander replied, smirking when Draco choked on his drink, coughing and spluttering. 

"You're bloody joking!"

Alexander shook his head. "Afraid not," he replied. "Angelus. Big bad ass vampire in his time, but got himself landed with a soul. Goes by the name of Angel now and is in love with the Slayer."

"And she doesn't kill him?"

"She sent him to Hell once," Alexander glanced towards the dance floor. "And he couldn't even stay there. He came back and now, we have Buffy-Angel-lusting all over again, even after the mess last time."

"Last time?"

"Long story. Soul lossage. Carnage. Wasn't pleasant."

"Mmm."

Silence fell briefly, as Draco glanced around the faces of the people in the club, to see if he could spot any of the living-impaired, undead, demon-possessed or otherwise people, creatures, monsters. 

It was unlikely, considering he would never have even imagined the dark man as a vampire, or the colourful-haired boy as a werewolf, let alone a bassist.

However, someone did catch his attention, as his eyes skimmed around the club.

A rather...interesting-looking brunette, who was gyrating on the dance floor.

"Snake," Draco murmured lazily, letting his half-closed eyes casually wander the girl's lithe, toned body that seemed to have been poured into leather trousers and a scant black halter top.

"Hmm?"

"Girl over there, dark hair, dark eyes, nice arse, black leather..."

"Oh."

His eyes straying to Alexander, Draco arched an eyebrow. "Bad news, I assume?"

"Worst," Alexander muttered. "A Slayer gone wrong."

"Wrong?"

"She...something happened to her. I don't know what it was, but she's not been the same as she used to be," He leaned back against the column behind him, raising a hand to pillow his head. "She was...something."

Draco's brows rose in surprise at the tone in Alexander's voice. "You shagged her!"

"What?!"

"You, Snake. You shagged her, didn't you?" His eyes drifted back to the dark girl, who was writhing rhythmically between several young men. Her dark eyes flicked to him and she smirked, as he lazily turned back to Alexander. "Looks like she's the local broomstick."

"Huh?"

"Everyone gets a ride," Draco smirked.

"Hey!"

"Well, tell me I'm wrong about her, then," the blond challenged. "Tell me that you had a deep and meaningful relationship that lasted longer than one quick bonk and a door slammed in your face."

"You really are a bastard," Alexander muttered darkly. 

"Not me, Snake-boy," Draco reminded him. "I'm the one of this merry pair who was one hundred percent legitimate. You, on the other hand..." A dark look was flashed at him by Alexander. "What? You expect me to be all touchy-feely and sensitive about your emotions? Not bloody likely!"

"Again, I'll say you're a bastard."

"We covered this..."

"Does the word 'jerk' mean anything to you?"

"Yes," Draco replied seriously. "To pull."

Alexander's lips lifted in a faint smile. Despite the fact that they constantly seemed to bicker, he couldn't help being grateful for Draco's completely anti-sensitive approach in talking to him. It was a change. Nice, in a strange way. "You're a weirdo, you know."

"I try, Snake," Draco said in response, the smile on his face a genuine one as he studied his friend. "Every little bit helps, doesn't it?"

"I guess...and looks like we're about to have company..."

"Oh?"

Alexander nodded out onto the dance floor. "I'll say. If I'm right, I don't know you and you don't know me, right? It'll be...funny."

***

Sauntering from the dance area towards the blond guy, who was sitting just off the sidelines of the floor, at one of the tall, standing tables, Faith's hands were on her hips and she rolled her shoulders back.

He was leaning back on the high stool, his expression that of a King surveying his Kingdom, one of his thin hands casually resting on his thigh, the other still wrapped lazily around the cheap plastic tumbler that was sitting on the table beside him.

She knew he had been watching her casually, his half-closed eyes still drifting over her now and again as she stalked steadily towards the table, a predatory smirk already on her face.

"Hey, baby," she purred as she approached.

A blond eyebrow arched upwards. "Good evening."

Ooh! Classy!

Who'd've thunk that a gentleman would come to the Bronze?

Faith's eyes darted sidelong to see if there were any vacant stools by the table, so she could spend a little...quality time with this guy, a puzzled expression crossing her face at the sight of...

"Xander?"

Brown eyes looked around at her. "Faith."

"Whatcha doin' here, boy? You keepin' this guy here company for me?"

Alexander gave the blond man a look, then shook his head. He gave Faith another look of distaste. "Just sitting, Faith," he answered quietly, pushing off the stool. "Be seeing you."

"Friend of yours?" the blond guy asked, as Faith swung up onto Alexander's stool.

"Acquaintance, baby, but now, you got my full attention."

The blond looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment, then turned his silvery eyes back to the dance floor. "I see," he replied dryly. "How very flattering."

Faith grinned.

Playing hard to get, huh? 

A challenge. 

She liked that.

"You got a name?"

"Of course."

"Gonna tell me?"

Grey eyes returned to her face, a glitter of amusement in them. "Perhaps."

"You're English, right?"

"You might say that. And you are?"

"Ah, ah, baby - you gimme your name and I give you mine."

The man's lips lifted in a cool smirk, his hooded eyes coming back to her face briefly. "Then I suppose we'll just have to remain nameless, won't we?"

"C'mon, baby, you know you wanna tell me..." Under the cover of the table, Faith ran her hand up his denim-clad thigh towards his crotch. Most guys would either grin at that, or run a mile. The blond guy did neither, one eyebrow rising slightly.

"Your hand seems to be on my thigh," he remarked casually, raising his tumbler of beer to his lips and taking a drink. "It's rather ticklish."

Okay.

Faith was officially off-balance.

This guy was definitely the Ice-King. 

None of her usual 'game' actions were getting the familiar responses, which was a little bitty uncomfortable for the Slayer, who knew men like she knew the back of her hand. They were all meant to be the same. Not like this.

Maybe he was gay.

"Wanna dance?" she purred, leaning forward, her hand still wandering on his thigh.

"You mean in your particular style?" He gave her a wolfish grin that caught her by surprise, his eyes gleaming. "All but having a shag on the dance-floor with all clothes still in place?"

"Uh..."

"Sorry, love, but if I'm going to shag someone, I prefer to do it privately, so I don't make anyone watching feel inadequate," He got to his feet, gave her a wink and strolled away, leaving the Slayer gaping at him.

Okay.

Again.

That was wicked weird.

Her eyes followed the blond-haired man as he swept away through the club, people parting in waves to let him pass. Damn, he was a hot guy and he had kinda turned her down, with the implication that he might not, if they were somewhere private.

Well, that was something.

Kicking off the stool, she stretched again.

Ah well, if he wanted her, he knew where she was.

Now, though, she was gonna find someone, anyone that happened to be about, to cool her down and get rid of the hot and horny feelings she'd got whenever that guy's grey eyes had run over her.

***

"Willow," Buffy muttered.

Looking away from the stage, where her boyfriend's band - Dingoes Ate My baby - were playing, Willow glanced at the Slayer. "What is it?" she asked, following Buffy's line of sight and spotting what the other girl had seen. "Vamp?"

"I didn't think he was," Buffy answered softly.

The tall, kinda sexy blond guy who they had been watching earlier had a pretty brunette girl with him. He was kissing her neck as he lead her towards the back door of the club.

"I'm gonna check it out..."

"I'll just...uh...stay here and not get in the way."

"And make goo-goo eyes at Oz?"

Willow grinned. "That too."

Leaving her red-haired friend sitting on the stool and watching, Buffy slipped after the blond-haired young man and his acquired girlfriend for the evening, easing out into the passage behind the club.

A girl's cries rang out in the air.

Her jaw tightening, Buffy whipped Mister Pointy out from beneath her shirt and started forward, rounding a corner, where the girl was pinned up against a wall, her cries ricocheting off the walls, the man's mouth against her throat.

Running forward, Buffy started to stab down with her stake, when she realised her Slayer sense wasn't tingling, jerking off the attack, but too late, the sharp tip of the wood lodging straight in the man's shoulder.

"Oh..." she gasped as blood sprayed over her hands, the man staggering back with a sound of surprise and pain. In front of him, the girl Buffy had assumed was under attack started to scream hysterically.

Buffy blinked.

The young woman's underwear was around her knees and clearly, something far more kinky than the usual necking had been going on against the wall, which kind of explained the cries.

The blond man raised his left hand, over his shoulder and brought it back in front of him, looking at the blood smearing it. His pale face, which was washed yellowish by the streetlight, lifted to hers.

"After all the effort I went to, to nick this jacket, you went and got a bloody great hole in it," he said, looking at her out of grey eyes filled with...amusement? He had been stabbed in the shoulder and he thought it was funny?

"Omigod...omigod...omigod..." the brunette was whimpering.

"Don't worry, love," the man said, although his face had gone ashen. "I'm fine," That seemed to calm her a little. His eyes glittered with mirth at the look on her face. "You just head back in and tell them all that long fingers _do_ make a difference."

However, as soon as the dark-haired girl was out of sight, after pulling her underwear back in place and straightening her skirt, the blond man fell back heavily against the wall, a grimace on his pale features. 

"Oh," he said. "And it's nice to meet you, Slayer."

That said, his eyes rolled in his head and he keeled over in a faint.

  
  


_________________________________

  
  
  
Collie - my bitch! This is entuirely for you, for making me guilt-trip so *le sniffle* Distracting me from HP/LM slash...you evil fiend!  
Steve - like I said at the top, I will write as much Xan/Draco as I like :) *hugs* I love it when its my fic!  
Haven - You may yet get a Draco/Spike thing. And no, you can't have Draco!  
Goddess792 - I couldn't resist the Draco-like-Spike undertones ;) C'mon! They are too similar to refuse :D  
Obsidian - *grins* He's sho shexshay at that entrance scene. As for the unforgiveable - he wasn't using that (this gets brought up in a later ch.) - it was one of those dancing curses like he used on Harry in the book of CoS  
dljewel - Indeed *nods wisely* That was a review.  
Kristy Marie - You read all of HoV in ONE night? Yeeowch! I hope this is worth it :D  
Drina - Draco just learned what not to do the hard way ;) Poor boy *smirks* I feel bad for him.  
RoseFyre - Whyfor very nice? :) I'm curious :D  
lwbush - *blushes* Thank you for the compliment :D I'm all pink now! As for X/B smoochies in this. I'm afraid its unlikely. This isn't going to be a romance fic (mainly cos of WHMB which has me all romanced (and nauseated) out)  
Eugenie Chua - Eep! What is it about these stories that makes people lack in sleep? And I can certainly agree on the 'to hell with uni work' - I'd rather write fic any day :D  
JazzPizza - Thank you! I do like to know that I am keeping in character - my biggest fear is when the character voices don't stay true to the characters, so I'm muy reassured now :D Plus Spike/Draco cross-characterisation was too delicious to ignore ;)   
Amelia - I already have a Willow-centric story, so yes. This will be Xander centric, but not necessarily with him learning how to control his magic. Necessarily. Maybe ;) (*singsongs* I know what happens, I know what happens...muahaha!)  
Shadwmage7 - Like I said to Amelia, maybe ;) I don't like to spoil the story, so you'll have to wait and see! And I bet you can hear my mad cackling now :D  
RobClark - Thanks :D HoV is my proudest work so far. I just hope this can do it justice as a sequel  
Carms - *grins* Things are only going to get worse ;)  
smile7499 - *grins* I needed to do something boy-crazy. I don't normally, so I took author's privelege, cos I needed to have something silly. And the Draco comment on the hug is a general comment on HP slash in general :D  
Kolinshar Jackie-chan Benito - Meep! I'm getting embarrassed again! I mean, I liked HoV as well, but I didn't know so many people liked it/read it! Again, I hope this sequel does it justice...  
Lisette - well technically, Buffy *did* accidentally kick Draco's arse. And if you DO like more Buffy in your crossovers, you'd probably like "When Harry Met Buffy", my latest nauseating fluffball of a fic. I hate it, so, obviously, everyone else likes it. My logic is weird.  
Bob - Xander might learn of powers, then again, he might not...muahaha! I do like knowing what happens when no one else does ;)  
F-dragonwolf - hope you liked the latest chapter and Draco on top of WHAT exactly? ;) *innocence*  
chaosdragon - I'm *hoping* I can keep the humour up (especially since I'm in homicidal mode atm, thanks to a fic I mentioned earlier - I must reiterate I NEVER write romance and my psychotic muse is the reason why. It's chaffing at the bit for a massacre now) and romance...well...I doubt there'll be much in this fic. Maybe, but *points at large scale doubts* Possibly not. Or maybe I'm just being cryptic again! Muaha! :D  
Person-who-didn't-leave-a-name - if you're going to tell me to post more so bluntly (with nary a please! *gasp*) do leave a name, so I can yell at you properly next time about being at uni and being busy with real life and suchlike :P  
Scott - re. Draco/Xandwer flirting-style-dialogue - oopsy. I don't flirt. I don't get flirted with. I avoid situations where flirting might ensue (relationship-phobic here. Actually people-phobic - is bad thing) - so I didn't realise that would be construed as flirting. My bad. Will try and behave...or make it a slash story! Muahah! :D Kidding ;) Xan & Draco are just friends and so it will remain.  
Julie - Someone else whose read HoV? And wouldn't mind another epic? My...well, this is penned to go to 20 pages, although the chapter lengths are a LOT shorter, so it will be a kind of epic :)  
Riverchic1998 - *grins* You weren't at ALL enthusiastic when you wrote the review, were you? ;) Not at ALL! Hope you liked this ch!   
Hope you enjoyed it :D 


	4. Surprise!

Legacy of the Fathers

Chapter Four - Surprise

Notes: It was very naughty of me to leave a cliffhanger like that no? Oh and Draco is dead. Don't worry about it. :) As for Buffy's reaction - methinks she was having a bit of and off night and poor Draco was just getting some action for the first time in ages...our poor baby. 

Also, this *might* warrant a slightly higher rating for potty mouth on the part of one of our merry heroes :) Just to give you warning.

__________________________

"Call nine-one-one! Get an ambulance!"

"Buffy?"

Looking at her bloody hands in panic, Buffy found Willow by her side. "Will! He wasn't a vamp!" she whispered urgently, her voice ringing frantically. "I-I thought he was... I staked him...in the back...I staked him..."

The colour washed from Willow's face, a hand coming to her mouth and she shook her head in disbelief. "Oh my God... Buffy..."

"I-I gotta get back to him..." Grabbing towels off the bar, the Slayer looked at her friend. "You...?"

"I'm coming with you."

The bartender was already dialling the number, as Buffy turned and ran back to the door, Willow on her heels, to make sure that there was someone left alive for the ambulance crew to deal with.

"Is-is he all right?"

"He knew who I was. He called me Slayer and then he passed out and I came to get the ambulance," Buffy answered tersely, rounding the corner to the spot where her unfortunate victim had fallen.

"Where is he?"

Buffy stared.

"He...he was right here..." she whispered, shaking her head in confusion. "I know he was... right on this spot..." Running a little way down the passage, she looked around, her face creased in bewilderment.

"You don't think a vamp...?"

"No...no, there weren't any here..." Buffy was utterly perplexed. "Where did he go?"

There was no one to be seen in the dim alley.

No sign that anyone had even been there.

Except the pool of blood at their feet.

***

On his return from England, a month earlier, Rupert Giles had brought several tomes from the Watchers Council that pertained to the subject of the Dark Lord Voldemort, who also happened to be the father of one of his charges, Alexander Harris.

It made for truly terrifying reading.

Several large folders full of paperwork had also been provided by the Council of Aurors, providing the perspective of the wizarding community at large, in the time of the Dark Lord's rise to power.

When contemplating the threat that Alexander could potentially pose, the Watcher had known that Voldemort had been bad, but he had no idea just how powerful the dark wizard had been.

He had lost track of his world, but now...

Now, he was glad he had been free of it, when Voldemort was in power.

To know that such atrocities were inflicted by one wizard on another was more horrible than he had even dared to imagine. Even the tales told by Draco Malfoy, Virginia Weasley and Severus Snape had done nothing to prepare him for it.

There was one reason that he was reading so much into the deceased Dark Lord.

Alexander.

Considering what Ethan had told him, he knew that Alexander had to be powerful.

To be able to actually kill Voldemort...

It had been thought to be impossible. No one who had faced him and cursed him had ever succeeded in killing him, but his own son, his flesh and blood, his Heir, had been the one with the power to do it.

That, in itself, suggested that young, gentle, passive Alexander Harris was more powerful than any of them had dared to even contemplate, even more powerful than his immensely powerful father.

Should he lose control...

It was a thought that was not even worth consideration, although Giles knew that they would have to keep an incredibly close watch on the boy, especially when his emotional state was brought to the light.

After all, he had lost his beloved mother, shortly after being the cause of death of his biological father.

As Ethan had noted, if Alexander decided to use his powers and started to develop them based on the broken emotions he was being forced to deal with and his unsteady mental state, the Hellmouth would no longer be considered the most dangerous thing in Sunnydale.

Hopefully, Ethan's contact would be able to help.

He was halfway down a page, when there was a knocking on the door, causing him to look up, a puzzled frown wrinkling his brow.

Buffy was supposedly going to the club, then patrolling and Alexander had seldom come back at night, until midnight, since he had taken up residence in the Watcher's small apartment, so who...?

Rising from the table, he crossed the small gap to the door and pulled it open, his mouth dropping open in shock at the sight of Alexander Harris, holding a grey-faced, leather-coat-wearing, unruly-haired Draco Malfoy upright.

"Hey, G-Man," Alexander grinned, although there was a look of urgency on his face, which was almost as pale as Draco's was. "Surprise."

"Evening, Giles," Malfoy flashed a smirk at him, although there were streaks of red on his temple, where it looked like he had tried to brush his hair back from his eyes and left…were those bloodstains? "Nice weather we're having for the time of year."

"Malfoy?"

"And you said he wouldn't remember me," Draco muttered, his right arm looped around Alexander's shoulder, Alexander's left securely around his waist. "For shame, Snake! How could he forget a devilishly charming chap like...ow..."

Giles had crossed the threshold in a heartbeat, his hands coming up to support Draco's left side, as the young man staggered slightly, eyes glazed with pain. "Do I get to know what happened or am I just expected to invite you in?"

"Oh, I was stabbed...by your slayer...nothing really."

"Dear Lord!"

Draco gave Alexander a hazy look. "I thought you said her name was Buffy," he smirked, wincing as he was negotiated forward, into the house and around the table and chair, towards the couch that stood with it's back parallel to the wall, which house the front door.

"You're funny, Ferret," Alexander retorted, his left arm around Draco's waist, his right, holding Draco's arm, where it rested on his shoulder. "Will you just shut up so Giles can do his fix-everything deal?"

Neither of them noticed the amused look on Giles' face, as he hurried towards the cupboards that stood against one wall, bending to retrieve the first aid kit that he had hidden there.

So this was whom Ethan had sent in to do his dirty work, was it?

For the most part, it appeared to be working.

"Me? Shut up?" Malfoy hissed through his teeth in pain as he was lowered to the olive-coloured couch. Using the coffee table in front of him to balance himself, he sat, pressing his eyes shut. "I don't shut up when I'm being tortured. I don't shut up when I'm shagging. Why would I shut up when I've got a hole in my shoulder?"

"Is there anything that does shut you up?" Alexander demanded, sitting down beside him and helping him ease the jacket off his shoulder, the blood-red shirt an even darker shade.

Malfoy paused to consider it. "No," he answered, then cursed in pain when Alexander lifted his arm free of the jacket. "Easy, you clumsy great git! I've got a bloody gaping hole in my shoulder! A little TLC wouldn't exactly go amiss!"

"Well excuse me for trying to stop you bleeding to death."

"Pillock," Draco muttered under his breath.

"Whiner," Alexander answered equally quietly, as he helped Draco out of the blood-soaked shirt.

"And once again, I am astounded by your maturity and wit," Giles said, shaking his head, as he sat down on Draco's left side, opening the first aid kit and withdrawing a pair of scissors. "Now, stay still…"

"What the hell are those for!?!" Despite the blood-loss, Draco surged to his feet, cursing as he banged his knee on the coffee table. "I don't know about you, but I REALLY don't like the look of muggle medicine, if they involve bloody great sharp metal things sticking into me and I'm not letting you anywhere near me with..."

"They're to cut your T-shirt off so I can treat the wound, Malfoy," Giles said with an almost Ripper-esque smirk.

It was far too much fun to wind up wizard-borns in the muggle-world.

Swaying slightly, Draco blinked. "Oh."

With a little help from both sides, the blond managed to sit back down, his face even paler than it had been a second before. Cutting away his T-shirt, Giles winced at the sheer amount of blood soaking the fabric.

The wound must have been struck hard to make him bleed so much. His torso was even paler than his face, beneath the streaks of crimson, the thin thready veins clearly visible beneath his skin that was taking on a pearly shade of blue from blood loss.

He was also thin. Lean, but seeing him like this, slumped forwards over Alexander's arm, he looked thinner than before and oddly fragile. 

"Snake," Draco's mutter was barely audible.

"Yeah, Ferret?"

"If I die…" he rocked forward dizzily, Alexander's arm immediately sliding under his chest to hold him steady for the watcher, his hand spread out on Draco's ribs. 

"Don't get sentimental on me. You're not going to die."

Dulled silver eyes glinted at him. "Bollocks to sentimental, you arsehole," he whispered, as Giles peeled the black T-shirt away fully. "I was saying...if I die," His eyes were getting rapidly more glazed. "I'm going to haunt you...it's your bloody fault I came here and that… that we went to the club and…that I got stabbed…and I'll make sure you… never bloody forget it…"

Giles couldn't help snickering at the blond boy. He really was very similar to Ripper, in manner as well as nature, although he really wasn't looking at all healthy at the present moment.

The wound to his left shoulder was at a very odd angle, Giles noticed, leaning over the young man's pale back. It looked like the weapon, no doubt a stake, had entered just at the top of his shoulder blade at a very steep downward angle so there was little chance of serious internal damage, but blood was still flowing from the wound and down the curve of his back.

The end of a long splinter of wood was sticking out of the ragged tear and the Watcher leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, catching it between his forefinger and thumb. With a sharp tug, he yanked it free.

"FUCK!" Draco yelled.

"Language, Malfoy," Giles said cheerfully, clapping a gauze strip over the wound when fresh blood started bubbling out. His hand pressed down and he studied the two-inch-long sliver of wood that had been lodged in Malfoy's back. 

"I'll give you language, you bloody bastard!" the blond panted. "Are you trying to fucking kill me?"

Green eyes looked down at grey, an amused glint in Giles' eyes. "It was just a little splinter and it had to come out. Stop being such a child, Malfoy. I always thought you had brass knackers from the way you talked."

"Little splinter?" Draco's eyes shifted and he saw the splinter held in the older man's hand. "Bloody hell...no wonder it was sore," he mumbled breathlessly. His head drooped down, almost resting on his knees, his hair mussed over his pale face.

Alexander's attention was fully focussed on his friend, his right arm under Draco's chest probably the only thing stopping the blond from slipping to the floor. "Is he gonna be okay, Giles?"

"Concern?" Draco mumbled, his skin nearly ice-cold against Giles' hand. "For me? I'm touched, Snake."

"Shut up, Ferret."

"Bite me."

"Not a good thing to say in this town," Alexander said, then looked up at Giles. "Is it serious, G-Man?" 

"He-he has lost a lot of blood, Xander, but he should be fine," the watcher replied, lifting the edge of the once-white gauze to check the wound. The bleeding was already slowing to a trickle, but as a precaution, Giles knew the wound would have to be sealed. 

Standing, the watcher hurried through to the kitchen, pausing at the sink to scrub his hands, before returning to the two boys on the couch, Alexander's eyes anxiously on him, as he sat back down.

Reaching into the first aid box, he smiled grimly. 

Giles was once again grateful to the hospital in Sunnydale. It had provided packs for any people who passed their first aid training courses and were few and far between, although they had never been needed more. 

The packs came with titles like 'What to do, if a romantic evening in the woods goes wrong', which included steri-strips, a sterile needle and catgut for stitching wounds to the throat and a bottle of - although most people didn't realise it - Holy Water, for cleaning said wounds.

However, it was his ability to apply stitches, which - while not counted as first aid in anywhere except Sunnydale, it was seen as a necessary part of life on the Hellmouth - was most essential at this moment.

"Draco," he said, removing the gaze pad and quickly wiping around the wound with an alcohol-soaked steri-wipe, another of the wonderful freebies in the hospital's gift pack. "This may sting a little…"

"Sting?" the muffled mumble came from between Draco's knees.

Nodding to Alexander, who immediately gripped Malfoy a little tighter, Giles started the first stitch.

"HOLY SHIT ON A STICK!"

"Stay still, Malfoy," Giles snapped, his arm pressing down on Draco's back to hold the blond in place. "If you stay still, it'll be over with soon."

"Like hell I will you bastard!" the mumbling had become a lot more coherent. "That hurts! It bloody hurts, you filthy, muggle-loving wanker! That's not stinging you prat! That is A-class pain with a great big P!"

Alexander held onto the blond, making sure he did stay still. "He could make a lot more painful for you, Ferret," he said. "Trust me on that."

"Like hell, Snake! This bloody hurts! Don't you tell me you know!"

"Don't they give stitches where you come from?"

Draco was squirming and yelping as Giles drew the catgut tight. "NO! We're bloody wizards! We do bloody magic so getting our cuts fixed doesn't hurt more than the bloody cuts themselves!" 

"Wuss," Alexander snickered.

"I'll do you for that, Snake, I swear," Malfoy's voice grew in volume and intensity, all thought of dizziness clearly thrown asunder by pain. "When I get my head up, I'm gonna do you for that! I'll rip your bleeding knackers off and throw them across the room and then we'll see whose a…"

"Finished," Giles said cheerfully, snipping the catgut with the scissors. He pressed a steri-strip over the wound, which was now a narrow centimetre-long line, just beneath the top of Draco's shoulder.

"Eh?"

Both Alexander and Giles sat back from the fuming wizard and Giles chuckled. "It might be a crude technique, Malfoy, but it works," he said, getting to his feet again. "I would suggest you restrain yourself from debollocking us, until you've at least had a little aid cleaning yourself up."

"Er…" Looking down at his bloody torso, Draco nodded. "Yes…that…that might be a good idea…"

"But first we'll get some fluids into you…"

"Scotch?" the blond suggested, a little too eagerly, grey eyes glinting with mirth and Giles frowned. "Just kidding, G-Man."

Alexander burst out laughing and Giles glared down in a combination of irritation, anger and genuine amusement at Draco, who smile sweetly and leaned back against the couch as best he could.

"You really are a beastly little wretch, Malfoy," the watcher muttered, as he stalked past and towards the kitchen, slamming open a cupboard with enough force to almost wrench it off its hinges.

One the couch, Draco grinned at the apparent commendation. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

***

Bursting in the front door of Giles apartment, Buffy looked around wildly for any sign of her watcher. She had left Willow at the Bronze, looking around for the guy along with Oz. "Giles!"

There was a clattering sound from the bathroom and Giles emerged, sleeves rolled up, a worried expression on his face. "Buffy?" he squinted at her through glasses that were steamed up. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Giles, I'm in so much trouble...there was a guy...outside the Bronze...I-I thought he was a vampire, but he wasn't...and I kinda...staked him..." A strange look crossed his face, but Buffy ignored it. "We...Willow and me...went for help, but when we came back... he was gone..."

"You are sure you struck him?"

"Yes! He touched it and there was blood and everything! And he knows who I am!"

Giles sat down on the arm of the sofa, removing his glasses and wiping them on the front of his shirt. "Oh dear..." he said, in a strangely monotone voice.

"Oh dear is right!" Buffy exclaimed, pacing in front of him, pointing at him with every question that she asked, in her increasingly hysterical voice. "What do I do? What if he tells someone? What if he dies?"

"He won't die," Giles replied dryly. "Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" Buffy whipped around to face her Watcher, where he was seated, an angry look on her face. "Giles! This is serious! I stabbed a guy and now, he might be bleeding to death or telling everyone who I am!"

"Yes, I am aware of the severity of the situation, Buffy," he said. Even though he wasn't as stuff as he used to be, she couldn't remember him ever sound quite as patronising as he did at that moment. "However, I can assure you that the man you stabbed will not die or tell anyone, unless he wishes to find himself emasculated with my pruning shears."

Buffy blinked in confusion. 

"How very...graphic you are, Giles," a voice spoke from directly behind her, dry.

Whirling around in fright, Buffy's mouth fell open at the sight of him! The guy she had staked was standing just behind her, leaning against the bathroom doorframe with no shirt on! Hooha! Definitely no shirt on! 

He looked kind of different, his blond hair damp and hanging around his almost deathly-white face, but there was no trace of blood on any part of his body. A smirk lifted his lips.

"Nice to see you again, Slayer."

"G-Giles?"

From beyond the man, another person emerged. "Quit showing off, Ferret," her long-time friend, Alexander, said, giving the blond man a little push in the direction of the living room. "Hey, Buff."

The pair made their way forward, the blond wincing with every shift of his left arm, which he was holding to his body with his right hand. Alexander eased around the Slayer without meeting her eyes, helping the blond man to sit down.

"Xander? You know this guy? And you too, Giles?" Buffy looked from one face to the others, her face twisting in confusion. "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?"


	5. Ladies

Legacy of the Fathers

Chapter Five - Ladies

Notes: Apologies and the like for the delay in this particular chapter, but I was home over Christmas and when I go home, it means my computer access is cut from pretty much constant at uni to one hour a day in total at home and since that hour is usually spent saving my inboxes from spam, I don't have much time for typing. And then, back to uni to start doing preparatory reading for my dissertation (first ch. due in the second week of Feb - I'm so organised, I really am). 

But here we go, a new chapter.

And to the person who thought Giles was being harsh to Buffy - give the poor bloke a break - he'd just been stuck in a bathroom for half an hour with Draco and Xander. Its enough to make anyone a little...er...bitey ;)

______________________

"Well, that was rather interesting."

"You have a weird concept of interesting."

Lying on his stomach on the couch, Draco opened his grey eyes and glanced down at Alexander, who was lying on the floor by the sofa. The dark-haired boy was staring at the ceiling, his fingers interlaced behind his head.

Draco's face was washed an eerie silver by the moonlight dipping in through the window, the moon only a few days away from reaching its full face. Between the couch and coffee table, Alexander was plunged into the shadows, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

"I'm amazed that the silly girl bought the 'we'll tell you the whole story tomorrow, now run along and be a good girl' excuse, Snake," he mumbled around a mouthful of tan-coloured pillow.

Alexander shifted slightly to look at the blond. "That's because we are telling them the whole thing tomorrow. Everything. About you, me, my parents, the wizarding world. Everything."

"We are? Says who?"

Brown eyes redirected to the ceiling again. "Says me, Heir of the Snakeman."

"And do I have a choice in this?"

"Ferret, there will be four very good looking girls there for you to brag to about your noble conversion to the forces of good."

"Whoa!" Leaning up on his elbows, Draco glowered down at the dark-haired youth on the floor. "Hold on! Who said anything about me being converted to the forces of good? What do I look like? Some kind of magnificent poof who was suddenly cursed with a conscience?"

Alexander smiled serenely up at the ceiling. "We already have one of them. You're just a blond bimbo with more eyes than brain cells who has ended up as the sidekick of the son of the Dark Lord."

"And I'm still not a 'good guy', all right? We are completely clear on this?"

"I guess I can force myself to believe that."

Draco sniffed. "Thank you."

"And if I ever did go evil, you would be my first choice of evil side kick, okay?"

"Now you're just being patronising, you snotty bastard," Draco mumbled drowsily. "And you said something about good-looking girls..."

"Yeah, I did."

There was a long silence only broken by Giles' quiet snores from the open balcony bedroom that loomed above them, where they were camped out in the Watcher's living room.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Draco groaned, reaching down to try and smack Alexander across the head. "You mention good-looking girls and then don't tell me more. You really are an evil bastard in every possible way, Snakeboy."

"Thank you, Ferretboy, but I should warn you that they won't be impressed if you don't boast about being on the side of the forces of good," Alexander remarked with a half-grin towards the ceiling.

"Hmm..." Draco seemed to consider it for a long time, punching his pillow before laying his head back down on it with a yawn. "What about me telling them that I have a big knob?"

"To make up for being a bad guy?"

"Well, it would distract 'em for a bit." 

"How do you work that out?"

Draco's smirk was unseen, his still-pale face concealed by the pillow, but it was practically palpable on the air. "That's where the bloody amazing shagging comes into the equation, Snake."

***

"Giles knows him?"

"And Xander," Buffy nodded.

Willow Rosenberg and Buffy Summers were in the library earlier than usual, in anticipation of meeting the man whom Buffy had had the misfortune of accidentally staking the previous evening.

Morning sunlight was pouring in the high windows, glistening through the dust that hung in the air. The whole library almost seemed to be frozen in its own time, musty and quiet.

However, the weapons cabinet hidden in the book cage, where more valuable books were meant to be stored in case of theft, suggested the library wasn't as quiet a place as it might have otherwise been.

After all, with two Slayers and two Watchers using it as a centre of operation and a werewolf using the bookcage as a...well, a cage during his transformations...

It went without saying that the room was no ordinary library.

Just as the two girls sitting in it were no ordinary girls.

Willow frowned. "But Xander...I know everyone he knows...or I thought I did..."

"Blond-guy is English," Buffy remarked, sitting up on the large table that stood in front of the landing of the library. Willow was sitting beside it, leaning on a book of demons. "Maybe they met each other when Xander went to England."

"I would say that was a fairly accurate assessment," a voice drawled lazily from the door of the library, both girls looking around sharply to find the aforementioned blond man standing there.

He was no longer wearing black, dark jeans and a white T-shirt that were obviously Alexander's hanging on the blond's leaner frame, his silver-blond hair gel-free and loose around his pale angular face.

He was also alone.

There was no sign of Giles or Alexander.

"Uh...hi..."

The blond straightened up and stepped across the threshhold of the library. "Good morning, Slayer," he said, looking up at the shelves beyond them then to the piles of demon-centric books on the table with amused interest. "Well, well, well... this is where the schemes to save the world are assembled. How very...quaint."

Pushing herself forwards on the table, Buffy slid onto her feet, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes on the guy. His tone of voice was seriously giving her the wiggens. "I don't think I got your name, buddy."

Trailing his fingertips along the library counter which stood to his right, blocking the door which lead to Giles' office, he looked over at her. "Me? I thought I'd wait for Snake... that is, I thought I'd wait for Harris to arrive and do the introductions."

"And where is Xander?" Buffy demanded. "And Giles?"

"Slayer, I don't know what they teach you about the Queen's English in these bloody dumps that pass for schools, but the correct phrasing would be 'Where are Alexander and Giles?'. Do you follow?"

Buffy gaped at him.

The man sighed. "Obviously not," he remarked. "Should never have expected quite so much from a bottle blonde."

"Hey!"

"Slayer, the day you are a natural blonde is the day I stand up and be counted among the ranks of angels."

"Ferret, quit it." Turning to look over his shoulder, the blond grinned at Alexander, who had just entered and was shaking his head. 

Apparently, he was well aware that Buffy was sending Death Glares at him and, if looks had the ability to kill, he would have been laid out on the floor, with imaginary daggers, swords and a chainsaw or two stuck in his body for good measure.

"Hey Buff...Wills."

Willow stood up, warily looking at the blond man, then smiling nervously at her long-time friend, who had moved alongside the blond man. "Hey, Xander...and Xander's friend."

"And just look what we have here," the blond murmured, as if he had just noticed her for the first time. "Snake, I applaud you. I didn't think it possible, but you have yourself a Mini-Weasel. A mini-Ginny to be precise."

"A whatty-what-what?" Willow asked, puzzled.

"Far prettier than Weasley, of course," the blond gave her a dashing, flirtatious smile and Willow went scarlet, ducking her head.

Alexander sighed and slapped the blond sharply upside the head. The blond tried to look hurt, but only succeeded in looking...smirky. "Wills, Buffy, this is Draco Malfoy, a guy I met in England, when I was there."

"Draco? Dragon?" Willow asked timidly.

Draco made an ironic little bow. "That's me," he replied.

"Kinda weird name," Buffy noted.

"Takes one to know one, I suppose."

"HEY!"

Another slap was applied to the back of Draco's head. "What?" he demanded. "I said I would come and meet all your lady friends, but you never said anything about having to pretend to like them all!"

"Yes, you did!"

"And when might I have said that?"

"When I said 'So you'll behave and be nice to my friends?' and you said 'Of course! Scout's honour!'"

Draco grinned. "Ah, that is where your argument slips, Snake," he drawled, grey eyes glinting with amusement. "You see, I was never a Scout, so Scout's honour does not apply to me."

"You really are a freak," Alexander muttered.

"I try, Snake, but I think you have me beat."

"Can't you two behave like adults for two minutes?" Giles demanded, as he entered the library. Draco snickered and Alexander shrugged. "I'm beginning to wonder if having you here is a mistake."

"A mistake? Me?" Draco strolled towards the table, sliding into the seat next to the blushing Willow and leaning back lazily, flashing a seductive grin at her. He, then, looked back at Giles innocently. "I'm on my best-behaviour, Giles!"

"I know," Giles noted dryly. "That's what worries me."

Alexander looked around the library. "I guess Faith hasn't checked in yet..."

"The dark-haired girl last night?"

"Oh dear God...Xander, you didn't introduce him to Faith..."

Draco snickered. "Not likely, Giles," he replied, interlacing his hands behind his head and leaning back. "The lady decided to introduce herself to me and her hand to my nether regions." Giles visibly baulked. "I suppose your pensioner's constitution found that to be a little too much information, eh, old man?"

The Watcher glared at the boy, who returned it with a merry grin.

"Why would you want her here anyway, Xander?" Buffy demanded.

A look flashed between Alexander and the blond at the table. "Trust me, Buff, there's a good reason," he said, then looked towards the door. "And I'm gonna have to bring Cordy in as well. I want her to know this."

"Know what, Xan?"

"Let me get Cordy and then I'll tell you, Wills," Alexander answered quietly. "Its a long story and I don't wanna have to tell it more than once."

"Cordy being your bitch-queen and very good-looking ex-love-interest?" Alexander nodded once to Draco, who was on his feet instantly. "Point the way, Snake! I'm in the mood for meeting a kindred spirit."

Buffy snorted and rolled her eyes, while Giles smothered a chuckle.

"Excuse me...?"

Draco made a dismissive gesture with a hand. "Well, not including the love-interest bit of course..."

"Ferret, I don't think..."

"Well, we all know that, Snake," Draco said cheerfully. "So, which way is the lovely Cordelia and how else would you be able to get her here, if I'm not the one to seduce her in here with my unnatural good looks?"

"Unnatural is right," Alexander glared at his friend, but still lead him towards the door and pointed through the round window, out into the courtyard. Draco followed the direction of the finger, arching an eyebrow. "What?"

Draco clapped him on the shoulder. "I never knew you had it in you, Snake," he remarked proudly. "How the hell did you get a gorgeous thing like that to look at you?" He held up a hand to silence the reply. "Wait! I'm sensing something...a series of life or death situations that culminated in rampant snogging sessions..."

Alexander looked at him in surprise. "I didn't know you were psychic."

"I'm not," his friend replied with amusement. "But the only time a twit like you would ever have a chance with someone like her would be in a life or death situation and since you looked so surprised, it seems that I was right."

"You're really trying to make me hit you, aren't you?"

Draco grinned at him. "You know me," He smoothed the T-shirt he was wearing and pushed the door open. "So, Snake, any things that your lady likes that might win her over to my way of thinking?"

"Money, power and fashion," Alexander answered immediately. "But she isn't as bad as she used to be."

"She used to be bad?" Draco's eyes glittered gleefully, as he looked Cordelia up and down. "My, my...sounds like she needs some positive encouragement to go down that particular path again..."

"Ferret..." Draco had already slipped out of the library door, though, ignoring the warning tone in Alexander's voice. Turning back around, Alexander found his two friends staring at him and Giles shaking his head. "What?"

"What have you started, Xander?" Giles sighed. "Cordelia alone is bad enough, but Cordelia and Draco...I do believe you are trying to do away with the tattered remnants of my sanity."

Buffy was studying Alexander closely. "Why'd'he call you Snake? And why'd you call him Ferret?"

"All part of the very long story I'm gonna have to tell you guys when Draco brings Cordy back in here and when Faith shows up."

"What if Cordelia doesn't like him?" Willow volunteered.

Alexander's lips rose in a genuine smile, as he glanced back over his shoulder, through the porthole in the swing door. "He'll get her back here, Wills, trust me. I don't think he's going to let her say no."

***

"Good morning, ladies."

With her back to the library to avoid the pain of seeing her beloved ex-boyfriend entering, the leader of the small group of fashion-conscious teenagers didn't see who was speaking to her.

However, the rest of her small posse did and were staring with apparent appreciation at the speaker.

"I'm looking for the lovely Cordelia," the voice said and Cordelia mentally arched an eyebrow. It was male, just deep enough and had the yummiest British accent. Kind of like Wesley's, but without the stutter he always got when he was around her.

Turning, one hand on her hip, she started to say "And who are..."

The question kind of...trailed off, forgotten, as she saw just what her 'friends' were giggling over.

While he wasn't the best looking guy - pale and pointed face that was too thin and angular, with frighteningly light coloured eyes and silver-blond hair - his posture, his poise and his expression spoke of out and out bad-boy.

Cordelia knew for a fact that there were very few girls who could resist the bad-boy vibe, especially if the bad boy was smirking in a very sexy little way as the one right in front of her was.

As a rule, she didn't like blonds.

This guy was blond and probably a little older than she was, but she had never seen a guy that could pull it off without looking like a dumb jock.

The guy in front of her was definitely not of the dumb. In fact, despite the lazy look he had around his eyes, she would have bet her dad's fortune that he was sneaky, smart and cunning.

"Would I be right in assuming that you are Cordelia?"

"Uh...yeah," she held out a hand to him and heard the group of girls behind her giggling as he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over the knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. "Who are you?"

He gave her a studious look, then glanced at her friends briefly before his eyes came back to hers. "I would rather not discuss my private...affairs in front of an audience, fair Cordelia."

"Meaning?"

"Perhaps I could speak with you privately?"

Pulling her hand back, Cordelia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Having spent a lot of time on Slayerette duty, when she had been going out with...her now ex-hunny, she was instinctively wary of being isolated with a stranger.

Hell-beasts, after all, could come in all shapes and sizes.

"You wanna talk to me, buddy, you can do it right here and right now."

"Very well. I'm here," he replied. "On a little business for a friend. You might know a little of the trauma that he was forced to endure regarding his mother and he would sincerely appreciate it if you could put aside your aversion to him for perhaps an hour or two, to let him explain." 

Xander, Cordelia realised vaguely, her heart pounding painfully. He was talking about Xander.

"Whatever that jerk has to say to me, I'm not interested," she said, her voice shaking a little. "He can make as many excuses as he likes about why he did it, but he's still a jerk, especially if he thinks he can get his friends to make me listen to him."

The blond man gazed at her for a long moment. He looked like he was thinking over something, then leaned forward quickly and caught her elbow, drawing her towards him, his expression serious.

"Please," he said quietly, so quietly that her group couldn't hear a word he was saying. His grey eyes had gone from playfully flirtatious to sincere, pleading. "Alex needs you there."

Cordelia stared at him. "What? Why?"

He exhaled a breath, then met her eyes again. "I shouldn't be the one to tell you this, Cordelia. He wanted to be the one to tell all of you, to explain everything, but I have the feeling you need to know. Alex's mother died several weeks ago."

A sharp gasp escaped her throat before she could stop it. "Oh my God...Xander..."

"He needs your support as much as he needs the support of his other friends, if not more so."

Cordelia's eyes stung, but she forced down tears that filled her eyes at the thought of both Xander and Mrs Harris. She had only met Mrs Harris a few of times and the tiny, fragile blonde woman had been one of the sweetest ladies she had ever met.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice cracking.

The blond gave her a sad smile that was edged with guilt. "That's part of Harris' story, Cordelia. That's what he needs you there for. He has a lot to tell the people who are closest to him and he...he hopes he can still consider you as one of them."

"Of course he can, you dork!" Cordelia exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "Where is he? I want to see him."

The man sighed. "I hoped you would say that." Inclining his head towards her oblivious flock of friends, he gave them a dashing smile, which set off another round of giggles. "Ladies," he intoned gravely. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

Leading Cordelia by the arm, he felt her curious eyes on him. "What is it?"

"Who are you?" she asked. "And how come you know Xander?"

"You'll find out about me soon enough," he replied cryptically. "Harris is about to tell all about the mad little thing that is known as his life and I have a guest spot somewhere in there."

"Don't I even get to know your name?"

He looked at her and then nodded with a slight weary smile that completely undercut the bad-boy vibe she had received from him earlier. "The name's Malfoy," he answered. "Draco Malfoy."

_______________________________

Big thanks yous to all the lovely people who have been reading and reviewing this! I would reply to all of you but I'm limited in my online time for checking all the name and everything (since I'm meant to be working and the like).

Just as advanced warning, this series looks like its going to go to 20 chapters at least (mainly because I've written 16/17 and a lot still has to happen after them). For people who have asked - Oz, Faith, Angel and Wesley are going to show face at some point because, yes, this is Season 3 of Buffy. 

In my estimation (without having the list of episodes to do a crosscheck) its just a little while after Bad Girls, so Faith = bad, Buffy = emotionally confused & Willow has met her evil-vampy-self. Either way, that's the timeline I'm sticking with.


	6. Strange Than Fiction

Legacy of the Fathers

Stranger Than Fiction

Notes: This is the chapter that I've been dreading because I'm panicking about getting character voices right. I know, I've been writing the characters in other stories, but that doesn't make it any easier when they're being written in this context - none of them are going to be quite the same as they are in any of my other crossovers.

Plus, telling everything in a way that will explain all in a none-boring fashion...eep...

Also, someone said that Draco was mean to Buffy - it is justified. She did stab him, after all, so he's bound to be a bit bitter towards her, when a) she tore his jacket and b) she made him pass out in a public place. Oh and there's the whole bloody wound thing as well.

****

End notes – Okay. This is definitely muy odd. This was the quickest Legacy chapter I've written and I did it almost totally in one sitting (with a break for munchies). I'm still kind of dubious about because it did flow so easily. Plus, I'm dubious cos I had less the 5 hours sleep and have already been scouring the library for Shakespeare books. I've been in the library more and longer in two weeks of this term than the rest of my uni life…Gah. Dissertation work. I'm actually doing work. Be afraid!

Hope you like!

_______________________________

Sprawling in one of the seats beside the table that stood in the middle of the library, Alexander Harris raised his eyes from his hands as the door of the library swung in, two figures entering.

"Xander," the newest arrival said in a voice that had never sounded sweeter to Alexander than it did at that moment.

"Cordy," he had managed to walk three paces towards her, his eyes widening in surprise when the brunette girl ran forwards and threw her arms around him. He could feel her face press against his neck and raised puzzled eyes to Draco Malfoy, who was still standing in the door.

"I had to tell her something, Snake," the blond said softly at the quizzical expression on Alexander's face. "She needed to know something about why you wanted to have her here."

Alexander nodded in grateful comprehension. He closed his eyes, letting his arms go by their instinct and wrap around her familiar body, burying his face in the thick, dark mass of her hair. 

Neither of them said anything. Neither of them really had to, but Alexander's silent tears were hot on her skin and she clung to him all the tighter, ignoring everyone around them except for the boy in her arms.

"Okay," Buffy's voice cut in. She was leaning against the bottom of the banister rail, her eyes suspiciously on Draco. "Will someone please tell us what's going on around here?" She pointed a finger at him. "Something tells me everything going on here is because of you and I wanna know what it is!"

"Some might say I'm rather good at matchmaking broken couples," Draco replied, sticking his hands in his pockets and rolling his shoulders. "Having troubles with your love life and need Draco the Magnificent to help, Slayer?"

The Slayer straightened up. "Just who are you, buddy?" she demanded. "You come here, you know Giles and Xander, you act like a real jerk to me and you expect me to sit back and take it without good reason?"

"Buffy," Giles started to say.

"No, Giles," Malfoy said coolly. "Let me."

Alexander spoke, his voice thick and muffled by Cordelia's hair. "Be nice."

"I'm always nice, Snake," Draco replied as moved forward, steering Cordelia and Alexander to one side, the warning gleam in his silver eyes actually making the Slayer back up. "And you, give us time, all right? A lot needs to be told and personally, I am not in the mood for dealing with you at this precise moment."

"You had no right..."

A cool fingertip touched her lip. "I'm not finished," he lowered his voice, stepping close to her, his eyes boring down into hers. "If anyone here has a right to do and say any damn thing they please, it's the unfortunate person who was stabbed in the back, last night."

A flush of embarrassment and shamed crossed Buffy's face. "I...I forgot about that..." She lowered her eyes, her shoulders slumping. "Sorry, I guess."

Much to her surprise, Draco's hand moved and he brushed his knuckles gently down her cheek. Had Buffy been any less surprised by his change in attitude, she would probably have thrown him across the room for touching without permission. 

As it was, she seemed to be trapped into staring at him.

"I wouldn't worry about it, though, Slayer," he said, a genuine note of amusement in his voice. Hazel eyes stared in confusion into silver. "It's not the first time someone tried, although it was the first time someone has succeeded. I ought to commend you for that."

She blinked at him, a little bemused. "Huh?"

The blond man's lips lifted in a smirk that reminded her acutely of Spike. "That's what I love about being so fickle," he said, turning and swinging up to sit on the table between two piles of books. "Always confuses everyone."

Buffy was still staring at him several minutes later and finally managed to turn her attention to Giles. "Is he always so...?" she started to ask.

"Always," Giles confirmed.

Draco grinned broadly at the commendation.

***

Striding into the library, slamming the doors wide, Faith stopped short at the sight of the group seated around the table, all of them looking up at her expectantly like some kind of committee waiting for a speaker.

Brilliant sunlight was pouring in on them through the windows, cutting between the gloomy stacks, bright and cheerful, but it couldn't have seemed more of a contrast to the sombre group.

"Hey..." She looked around warily. "Who died?"

Alexander was the one who replied, standing up. "Faith, I've got some...stuff I need to tell everyone," he said and she could hear his voice shaking. "I wanted you to be here as well."

"Me?" She half-laughed, half-snorted in disbelief.

He looked at her, the expression on his face more serious than she had ever seen it, then he nodded. "Yeah," he replied gravely. "Everyone in this room needs to hear what I have to say."

Weird. 

Xander never told her anything. That was what B and Red were there for, but this time he wanted to talk to her as well? What the hell?

Scrutinising his features, she shrugged. 

Why not?

Walking towards the table, Faith did a double-take at the blond in the seat next to Alexander's. Sure, his hair was different, but she coulda sworn that he was the guy she had met the night before. 

"The goldfish look suits you," he said, as she swung into the seat at the opposite end of the table from him. 

Faith looked from him to Alexander, who had just sat back down between Cordelia, who took Alexander's hand between hers, and the blond guy. "You said you didn't know this guy, Xan," she tutted. "Kinda rude to leave out introductions."

"Faith, this arrogant prick is Draco Malfoy," he motioned from one to the other with his free hand. The blond touched a fingertip to his brow in mock-salute. "Draco, you already know Faith."

Faith couldn't help wondering where Alexander got off, calling the guy a prick to his face, but the blond didn't seem to mind. In fact, he even seemed to be kinda amused by it, leaning back in his seat and smirking.

To Faith's right, Red and her faithful Dogboy were seated with B just beyond them at the head of the table. Red and B both looked real worried about something, while the wolf looked as passive as ever. 

Giles sat at the opposite end of the table from Buffy and he seemed to be the one chairing this...meeting thing. He looked around at all of their faces, then sighed. "I suppose we ought to begin, Xander."

"Yeah..." Alexander nodded, studying the surface of the table for a few minutes. "I don't know where to start, but you guys...I...I needed to tell you that when I was in England with Giles, my mom...she...she died."

"No!" Willow gasped, her hand to her mouth. "Omigod! Xander!"

"Don't start making with the deep sympathies and all that," Alexander said raising a hand in a calming motion. "I got all the pity I ever wanted or needed and then some. I don't wanna hear any more, especially from you guys."

"But Xander..."

Alexander shook his head. "Don't, Wills," he said quietly. "I don't wanna hear how sorry everyone is. It doesn't change things. It doesn't make things better. I know you wanna say things that you're always told are the right things to say, but I've heard 'em all and they don't mean anything anymore," He gave her a melancholy look. "Even when it's you saying them."

"Rough time, huh?" Oz murmured, sympathy visible in his pale eyes.

The dark-haired boy nodded. "You could say that."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Buffy whispered, her face white. She had only met Mrs Harris a couple of times, when she had gone to find Alexander, but she had never imagined anything like this happening.

Then again, no one would have.

"I-I had a lot to think about," Alexander replied, his voice tremulous. "I've...I've been staying with Giles since I got back...he knows everything that happened...him... and Draco..."

"What happened?" Willow asked. Tears were spilling down her chalk-white face and Oz's arms were around her. She sounded like she were about to start sobbing, her voice a reedy sound.

"She was hurt, Wills," He stretched a hand across the table and Willow grasped it instantly, their eyes meeting briefly. "She was too weak when I got to her...she just couldn't get...it...it was worse than anything dad ever did to her..."

Cordelia's eyes were pressed tightly shut, tears seeping down her perfectly made-up cheeks. She and Willow had been the only ones who had any vague idea of what Robert Harris had put Mrs Harris through.

While she had never seen it firsthand, unlike Willow, Alexander had confided in her, when they had been involved together. 

He had told her that his mother had been beaten by his father on regular occasions, but went to great pains to hide the damage and pretend that nothing had happened. It had hurt Alexander as much as it had his mother to see her harmed, but he had made her promise not to tell anyone, as his mother didn't want anyone else involved.

She had never breathed a word to anyone, nor had Willow, although both of them had wished they had the power to intervene.

Buffy looked like she was puzzling over several possible lines of questioning. "Xan, what..." she began, then stopped and began afresh. "What was your mom in England for? Was...was it the Watcher's council or something?"

"No! Definitely nothing to do with slayery stuff," Alexander replied quickly. Brown eyes looked around at the faces of his friends. "I...she..." A shaking hand ran through his hair, his eyes gleaming with fresh tears. "God...I-I-I didn't think it would be so hard to tell you this..."

"Snake, want me to fill in some of the blanks?" Draco offered, his right hand resting on Alexander's left shoulder.

Grateful dark eyes looked at him, as Cordelia slid closer and pressed her temple in silent comfort against Alexander's. "Thanks, Ferret."

Draco squeezed his shoulder. "Not a problem," he said, then looked at Giles, who gave him a curt nod. "All right, ladies and gentlemen...what you are looking at, in the form of my dashing friend here, is the son and heir of the most powerful dark wizard of recent times. His mother was arrested and jailed for bearing him and that jail sentence which," A pained look crossed his face. "Was my fault weakened her so much that she died, shortly after her son liberated her."

Five faces stared up at him as if he were crazy.

"I-I-I don't understand," Willow's voice was shaking and laced with grief.

"It's simple, Wills," Alexander murmured wearily, his eyes closed, his brow still resting against his former girlfriend's. "Robert Harris isn't my real father. My blood father was a wizard called Lord Voldemort. He forced my mom to carry me and because she had his kid, me, they arrested her."

"Your father...?" the red-haired girl stared at him. "Your...but you...I-I don't get it."

Alexander exhaled a breath. "My mom was an English witch," he said. "She only came here after I was born, to hide from him, because she knew he would want me to be like him." He sighed, studying his hands. "And I would have been if he had got me. I'm a wizard by blood."

"And a powerful one at that," Draco added.

"A wizard?" Cordelia echoed sceptically, her fingers tightening around his hand. "I-I don't get it, Xander. You've never done anything magical. Willow was always the one who did that and you...well...you were..."

"The Zeppo?" he offered, opening his eyes, a sad smile hedging onto his lips. "Yeah, I thought so too, but it turns out mom hid my magic stuff to keep me safe from the people who worked for my dad."

Faith leaned back in her seat. "So do something magical, Xander," she said, her eyes fixed on him in guarded curiosity. "If you say you're a wizard, why not show us some of your magic?"

"Because he can't use his abilities without training," Giles interrupted sharply.

Alexander cast a half-smile at the Watcher. "What he said," he replied quietly to Faith. "I don't know what I'm able to do and I don't wanna try anything in case I start to turn out like my father."

"A thing of the bad?" Oz cocked his head.

"He was so bad that most of the people in our world, the magical world, were scared to even say his name aloud," Draco said, a grim look on his face. "He had a lot of power and he used it to do whatever he pleased."

"Like?" Faith prompted.

Giles and Draco both looked at Alexander in concern, wondering if they should reveal this much. He was staring intently at the top of the table. Spreading his fingers on the smooth surface, he traced a pattern in the light smatter of dust.

"Like everything you can imagine and worse. Murder, torture, kidnap. Things that are definitely not of the good," Alexander was the one to finally give the quiet reply without looking up from the table. "One of mom's friends was forced to sleep with him to save her brother's life, then she was made to torture and kill her dad right in front of her mom because my father wanted to show what happened to people who didn't support him."

"Oh my God..." 

Cordelia shook her head. "Oh God, Xander..."

"That's why I'm not exactly big on the whole using-of-magic idea," Alexander continued, his voice low. "Before he became Voldemort, my father was a normal guy, at least everyone thought he was. He was called Tom Riddle and was smart, good at school, a nice guy, but Eth... my God-father told me that he...he was raised in an orphanage. His dad didn't want him because he found out that Tom's mom was a witch and Tom grew up to hate people who weren't magical, like his father..."

"But you're not like that, Xander!" Willow protested. 

Alexander laughed bitterly. "I'm more like that than I'd like to be, Wills," he said in a shaking voice. "When I know that I could really hurt my...hurt Robert Harris for what he did to my mom, without leaving any marks or anything...knowing I could get revenge for all the times he hurt her...it's so tempting..." 

"You haven't done anything to him, Snake," Draco said, his hand still reassuringly resting on Alexander's shoulder. "Which shows that you're stronger than he is to be able to stay in control."

"Xander..." Buffy was staring at him in confusion. "What do you mean? What did Mr Harris ever do to your mom?"

Dark brown eyes closed in pain. "Bad things, Buff," he replied quietly. "Things that no normal guy would do to his wife."

"And I thought my life was screwed up," Faith muttered.

Alexander's fingers continued to lightly touch patterns on the table. "I had to tell you guys so you knew why I've been acting the way I have," he explained. "I needed to try and work out what I'm gonna do. What I am." His face tightened. "Who I am."

"A good guy, Snake," Draco said softly. "I should know, coming in from the other side. You're a bloody good man."

Alexander laughed faintly. "Yeah. This coming from the Ferret."

"Watch it, you!" A pale hand punched his upper arm amiably.

"What's with the Ferret thing?" Faith asked, curious. "And Snake? And how'n the Hell d'you know each other anyway?"

Draco looked around at the serious faces of Alexander's friends. "I think I better do my big introduction now, since you're probably all wondering how I'm involved in this whole mess. I turned Harris into the wizarding authorities. It's my fault she was arrested and sent to the prison that ended up...well...it's my fault."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Ferret," Alexander opened his eyes again. "You were doing it out of grief over your own mom dying. If we had switched roles, I'm pretty sure I would have done the same."

"You mean your dad...killed his mom?" Willow asked shakily.

The two youths exchanged looks. 

"Not...exactly," Draco replied. "My father used to be in the employment of Harris' father. My mother was taken for the ride. She didn't exactly approve, but she couldn't stand against him. It was easier not to fight, so she didn't. She never harmed anyone and yet, she was killed by the light side wizards in the battle."

"Ergo, my father being the one to blame for everything," Alexander finished.

A silence fell briefly.

"What happened to him?" Buffy finally asked. "Your...your father?"

"Died."

"In the battle?"

A strange look crept across Alexander's solemn features. "No," he replied, a ghost of a smile sweeping across white lips. "He was captured, imprisoned...he died in his cell..." A shudder ran through him, the expression giving way to one of fear and loathing. "I met him before he died...made me real glad mom hid me from him. He sounded just like a snake...looked like one too, or at least that's what I was told..."

"So you calling him 'Snake' isn't exactly of the good..." Buffy glared at Draco.

Draco raised his hands. "He doesn't mind it and I have to tolerate him calling him Ferret after one of my most humiliating school experiences, so I would be greatly obliged if you would back off, Slayer."

"He's right, Buffy," Alexander added. "I don't mind. If he started getting all huggy and emotional on me, I think I'd run away."

"I-I still don't get this," Willow mumbled, drawing every eye at the table. "I mean you're... you're Xander! You're safe, snuggly, cosy Xander. How can you be the son of this super wiggy evil wizard guy? You're too...too Xandery!"

"That's because he's just like his mother," a lazy voice drawled from the stacks. A tall, lanky figure sauntered out into the swathes of daylight cutting through the dusty windows, his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers, the burgundy sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his elbows. "And the gentlemanly wit, debonair taste and charm... well, let's say he gets them from his Godfather."

Buffy was on her feet in a blink. "You!"

Ethan Rayne's lips curled in a genuinely amused grin. "Nice to see you again too, Slayer," he said amiably. "So, what did I miss?"


	7. No Joke

Legacy of the Fathers

No Joke

Notes: Apologies for how long this chapter has taken to get done - again, I've had real life cutting in on me and I had a week's break from working on anything, which was kind of nice for a change. Although it also meant I had far too many crazy ideas and no time to write the. Gack.

And dissertation. I STILL haven't got anything actually done for it. Reading yes, but motivation to write...gyah. I'll be writing at the last minute, as always. Anyway, back to the fic. 

Trust me, a plot is coming. Eventually :)

And, as always, this is for Collie, who is evil and mean and did I mention evil? :) Hope you like!

______________________________

A stunned silence hung in the library.

Buffy was already halfway around the table, ready to grab the man, who had only caused trouble on the last occasions that he had been in town. Giles stood up, saying her name softly and stopping her where she stood.

"Ethan," Alexander pushed his chair back from the table, standing up. He tried to smile, but everyone could see that it was forced.

Without a moment of hesitation, Ethan descended the staircase, pushing carelessly past Buffy. Grabbing his God-son, he pulled him to him in a tight embrace. "You doing all right, Xander?" he asked quietly, holding him back at arm's length.

Alexander's smile was watery. "Yeah. Great."

"My arse," Ethan retorted. "You look like crap."

"Not big on the compliments, huh?"

Ethan reached up and cuffed him lightly across the head. "I'm known for being too honest for my own good, Xander," he replied. "Told your little Slay-girl that it was one of my virtues, not so long ago and I stand by it. If you look like shite, I'm the one to say it and get my arse kicked for being rude."

"I could like this guy, " Faith snickered. "Real people skills."

"Ethan," Giles interrupted quietly. His hand still resting on Alexander's shoulder, the taller man looked over at his old friend. "Y-y-you know you shouldn't be here. If they find out..."

"Ripper, do I look like I give a damn about being caught?" Ethan retorted. "I'm his God-father and if I can't be here when he's spilling his guts about his past and all his inner-demons, what kind of godfather am I?"

"Is...is he right, Ethan?" Alexander asked, looking from one to the other. "Could you get in trouble...?"

"No more than usual, Xander," Ethan said with a forced grin. "And it looks like we've confused your little mob of mates, doesn't it? Am I right in guessing that you didn't tell them who your dear old God-daddy was?" 

"As if he would want to admit to having any kind of connection to you," Draco put in, sneering.

Much to the apparent surprise of the small group present, Ethan didn't seem to take it badly, a twinkle in his green eyes as he turned to survey Draco, who arched a brow in response.

Ethan chuckled. "Nice to see that Fluffy and Company haven't managed to tame you yet, Malfoy," he remarked, receiving a broad grin in response from Draco. "I would have been disappointed if I showed up and you were all hugs and puppies."

"Give 'em time," Alexander said warmly, his lop-sided smile a little more natural. He flashed an affectionate look around at his friends. "I haven't met someone who hasn't been snuggle-fied by my girls."

"Contagious goodness..." Ethan shuddered, a look of nausea on his face. "That's the one thing I'm most afraid of when I show face in good old Sunnyhell. Its worse than the common cold, from what I've heard." Draco snickered and Ethan smirked. He turned his attention to the bemused faces at the table. "So... girls and... bloke...I would be Ethan Rayne, Xander's God-father and one of the few people who can verify that what he said is true."

Buffy gaped at him. "You're Xander's god-father?"

"Nice to see all those blonde jokes aren't in vain," Ethan remarked. "Never thought I would meet one incarnate, though."

Buffy looked like she wanted very badly to throw a punch at the gangly Englishman, while Draco sniggered. "Good one, Rayne," he said, applauding. "Have to remember that one."

"Dear God..." Giles moaned. "I should never have left him in your charge, Ethan."

The sandy-haired man grinned. "You took my Godson and I took on your latest pity project, Ripper," he reminded his friend. "I'd say it was a fair trade, although, I'd rather have Xander about. He needs someone to teach him sarcasm properly. What kind of bloke can't even insult his friends properly?"

"Ethan, if you don't wanna be pummelled by a Slayer, I'd suggest shutting up right about now," Alexander chastised, then nodded to Buffy. "And yeah, he's my God-father. I only found out a few weeks ago...just before mom...well..." His eyes filled with pain. "Ethan was the one who told me who I was. He was the one that helped mom hide it from everyone."

A bony hand squeezed his shoulder. "And I'll say it again, Xander," Ethan said quietly. "Your mother would be damned proud of you."

Smiling wanly, Alexander returned to his seat at the table, sitting down and looking at his hands, which he folded in his lap. "You gonna do the convincing thing instead of getting all proud of and embarrassing me?"

"When you look so dashing when your face is crimson? Oh, I don't know..."

"Ethan..."

Chuckling, Ethan nodded, moving to stand behind his Godson's chair. Bringing his hands down to rest on Alexander's shoulders, he looked around the upturned faces at the table. "So, yeah, Xander, here, is the son of Voldemort, Heir of the Darkest of the Dark wizards and only kid of a psychopathic madman. Convinced? Good."

"I'm not convinced," a quiet voice said from the stacks, another figure lingering in the shadows, barely even visible.

"Great," Alexander groaned.

"He's been lurking up there as long as I have," Ethan noted cheerfully. "He didn't think I'd noticed him, but with caveman brow that prominent, how could I miss it?"

Alexander snickered. "That was kinda mean, Ethan."

"That was kinda the point, Xander," Ethan retorted, giving his smirking Godson a half-grin. Leaning back casually in his seat, Draco marked a point in the air with his finger, grinning up at Ethan.

"With wit that sharp," he remarked. "You're going to do yourself an injury one of these days, Rayne."

"Look at what's talking."

Buffy looked up at the new arrival, who carefully skirting the patches of sunlight on the floor to approach the stairs. As always, he was clad in darkness, both in shadows and clothing. "Angel?"

The dark vampire made his way down the stairs, his eyes fixed on Ethan. "I met He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's mate...the mate of the Snake-beast, Dru said... there's no way Xander can be his son."

"Well, well, Angelus. Nice to see you're as thick as ever," Ethan sighed, meeting Angel's eyes with a measured expression. "Yes, I remember that meeting...gave her an armed escort, you and that nutty tart of yours did."

"My name," the vampire said coolly. "Is Angel."

"Have it your way, Angelus," Ethan replied amiably, smiling. "Now, do you want to be the one to tell the Heir what you almost did to his mother? How you wanted to kill her, but that froot-loop of yours told you not to because she recognised who she was dealing with?"

"She wasn't Xander's mom," Angel said stubbornly. "She can't have been. He...he can't be the Heir."

"Why?" Alexander was the one to voice the question. Angel turned his eyes to the young man, looking over his mismatched clothing, the dark-bags under his eyes, his pale face and unruly hair. "Huh? Why is it so impossible to believe?"

"You... you're... you're Xander."

"Yeah," Alexander said coolly, standing up. "We had realised that, but I'm the Heir. I should know. I met my father."

"Your... father?"

"Yeah," The laugh was strained and tight. "Voldemort. Met him. He didn't take as much convincing as you to believe that I was his kid. Apparently, I look just like he did when he was my age as well. Now, if you wanna make a big deal of it..."

"Xander," Giles interrupted quickly, holding up a pacifying hand. "Perhaps...is there some way you could...could you describe your mother so that Angel might be able to-to-to verify what you have claimed?"

Alexander shot a venomous look at Angel. "Yeah," he replied coolly. "She was real small. About the same height as Buffy. Long, blonde hair. Brown eyes. She had a mark on her left shoulder. A mark from him. My father."

The vampire staggered back a step, his face going ashen.

"Believe me now, huh?"

"But you..."

"Me...?"

Angel shook his head. "No way..."

The smile that spread on Alexander's face was mirthless and hard. "Didn't you ever stop and wonder why I was never afraid of you? Even when you were threatening us. Even when you were Angelus, I was never ever afraid of you."

"That can't be true," Angel snapped.

"Sorry, buddy, but it is," Alexander said coldly. "I never trusted you, that's true. I never liked you. Everyone knows that. But afraid of you? I never was. I had no real reason to be. You never tried to do anything to me. You thought it was because I was an easy target...I was thinking about it and I think it was deeper than that. I think you were afraid of doing anything to me, because of who I was."

The vampire laughed, although it was an oddly strained sound. "Afraid of doing anything to you?"

Alexander raised his eyebrows. "Just think about it, Soulboy," he said, spreading his hands expressively. "All those times you could have killed me. Easy target, right there for the tormenting of the Slayer, but did you? Not once."

"I-I..."

His dark-brown eyes hooded, Alexander stepped out from the table and studied the vampire. "I always get used as bait. I was used as a target, but nothing ever did me real harm. Buffy has died, Willow and Giles have ended up in hospital, but me? Did anything serious ever happen to me? The worst I've had is a broken arm and that was when I got in the way."

"What about the hyenas?" Buffy challenged. "You were one of the people who got possessed by one. How do you explain that?"

"You had to bring that up, didn't you?" Cordelia looked ill at the thought. "I heard about this once and 'Eww' doesn't come close to it."

"Hyenas?" Ethan demanded, an oddly-worried look crossing his face. "What's this about hyenas?"

Even Draco looked intrigued, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. "And I thought you being a snake was strange enough, but hyenas..." He made an imperious gesture with a hand. "Do share..."

A faint grin crossed Alexander's lips. "Ferret, I'm not a slave. Waving your hand at me won't make me do anything."

Draco grinned. "Well, it was worth a try, wasn't it?" he said amiably. "So, are you going to explain what happened regarding hyenas and why I have a feeling it doesn't simply revolve around doing something doggy style..."

"Yes," Ethan added briskly. "I am a little curious about you and what you had to do with hyenas and possession."

"Like you can criticise me for getting possessed," Alexander said to Ethan.

"Valid point, but explain." Ethan crossed his arms, his expression stern. "Now."

Alexander nodded. "A pack of demonic hyenas from Africa were at the zoo. They possessed me and some other people when we were on a school trip a coupla years ago," he explained quickly to his godfather and friend, then turned his attention back to Buffy. "That was another occasion when I got lucky. Didn't you notice the position that I held in the pack?" 

Willow, Buffy and Giles exchanged puzzled looks. 

"Somethin' tells me that's a no," Faith remarked dryly.

"I'll second that," Draco agreed, smirking. The dark-haired Slayer looked him up and down, returning the smirk. "So, Snakeboy, care to share about your pack position? If it involves sex, do feel free to go into graphic detail to disturb your friends."

"I was the Pack Leader," Alexander said, shaking his head at Draco, who grinned back at him. "If I had been totally powerless, they would probably have turned on me for being weak. They didn't. They were _my_ pack. They knew I had power and they willingly followed me."

"Good Lord..." Giles said, removing his glasses and polishing them rather frantically on his tie. "I...I never noticed that there was any kind of-of-of ranking in the group."

Ethan shook his head. "Bloody hell, Xander..." he said. "Head of demon-hyena pack and some people thought you were normal. And there I was, thinking my Godson had a quiet life here."

"So you think it's kinda wiggy?" Alexander said. "I mean, I was given high ranks and I was never hurt, not even by the worst stuff that the Hellmouth could throw at me. I mean, there were zombie guys who seemed to think I fitted in with their 'kind'."

Angel took another step back from the younger man he had considered harmless for so long. His usually white face was grey and he seemed to be muttering a litany of curses under his breath, shaking his head.

"That is kinda...weird," Willow murmured, staring at her long-time friend. "You're just so...Xandery and...well...not magic."

"Not really," Ethan interrupted. "The kid is completely steeped in power. So much of it that you can't tell where he ends and it begins. Even when his abilities were masked, he would still have had that aura."

"But other powerful people...I-I-I mean, I'm...kinda powerful..."

Ethan gave the witch a sympathetic look. "Your kind of magic is a cultivated magic, Red," he said. "It's learned and built up through practise, but it can never match natural ability. Xander...he was born with this power...like the Slayers are..."

"And it's mainly a dark power, right?" Alexander asked grimly. Ethan reluctantly nodded. "It can be controlled, right? I mean, if I did learn how to use it, I wouldn't go dark, would I? I wouldn't be like my father?"

"The dark magics are as powerful as the light," Giles replied. "It's all a matter of the choices that you make. If you did learn to-to-to use the power you have, it's up to you whether you-you-you use it for good or bad."

A loud yawn from Draco Malfoy drew all eyes.

With his arms stretched over his head, he seemed genuinely surprised at the fact that everyone was giving him an odd look. 

"What?" he demanded, lowering his arms. "This is boring. Yay. We've got the son of Voldemort. Tut-tut. Using powers is bad. Aaargh. Everyone is afraid of big scary Snake. I'm bored. Are we done?"

"Ferret," Alexander shook his head, rolling his eyes. "You know, you have a real gift of ruining a mood."

"Mood? You call this a mood? So you're the son of a Dark Lord. It's not exactly something to get worked up about." A few funny looks were directed at him. "Well, all right," he agreed. "Maybe it is a little, but I've heard all this. It's boring. I want to do something." He perked up as he asked eagerly. "Can I curse someone?"

"NO!"

Ethan laughed, then cuffed Draco across the back of his head. "You're overreacting a bit there, Ripper, old man," he said. "The cocky little nit wouldn't dare to try and curse anyone. He knows I'd wring his neck if he tried anything."

"Not even a little bit?" Draco looked up hopefully.

"D'you want to have me dragged off by a horde of demons?"

Malfoy looked like he was seriously considering it. "Have you changed your will so I get that nice little estate in the midlands yet?" he asked.

"Not yet." 

"Damn..." Draco heaved a huge sigh. "Well, looks like I'll have to wait a while."

"Are you serious?" Faith demanded. 

The blond smirked. "When it comes to cursing someone who thought it was funny to put starch in my underwear, I've never been more serious in my life," he replied, his eyes remaining on the Slayer.

"Ferret, you're a freak."

"And your point is?" Draco drawled. "You're a brain-dead wanker with crap taste in clothes and terrible hair, so I would say I got the better end of the bargain."

"Jerk."

"Pillock."

"Ass."

"Arsewipe."

"If you two are quite finished this...highly mature verbal battle," Giles interrupted, putting his glasses back on. "Perhaps we could decide where to go from here. Xander, do-do-do you wish to learn about your powers?"

Alexander shook his head vehemently. "No."

"Aww, Snake!" Draco whined, pulling a face at his friend. "You're no fun! You have all this power! You should learn to use it and we'll take over the world! You and me! C'mon! It'll be fun!"

Brown eyes looked down at silver. "Ferret, if I was going to take over the world, I wouldn't choose you to be my side-kick," he said sincerely. "I would want to work with someone who doesn't bug the crap out of me."

"There is also the-the issue of someone trying to do that already," Giles said. "I do believe that if you could use your abilities, Xander, it-it would be a great advantage."

"Hold on! Someone nicked my idea already?" Draco slapped a hand down on the table, a look of irritation on his face. "Damnit! I knew I should have put my name on it! So...do we defeat him and take his place?"

A snort of laughter from Faith made the blond look at her. 

"What?"

"You...takin' over the world, Goldielocks," Faith replied, smirking, nodding towards the longish blond hair hanging in swathes around his face. "You can't even control your hair. How'n'the Hell you meant to control anythin' else?"

Draco smirked back at her. "Faith," he said, sincerity dripping off his voice. "It appears that you haven't realised that I left my hair au natural to make you feel more at home with the unkempt look that you seem to favour."

"You jerk!" she laughed as she said it.

"Thank you," Draco replied jovially. "And now, Giles, our Snakeboy, here, says he doesn't want to use his powers. We all know it could turn out to be a very bad thing if it went wrong, so - despite my desire to be titled Devine Diva of the Universe - I do think we should stand by his decision."

"Devine Diva of the Universe?" Alexander echoed, a look of disbelief on his face.

Draco preened a little. "Well, I do look good in a tiara," he replied.


	8. Split Allegiance

Legacy of the Fathers

Split Allegiance

Notes: I know this chapter has taken a while to get out but a) I've been working on my dissertation, b) I've been trying to finish The Eighth Weasley because it's been going on for long enough (only 23 chapters left), c) I haven't been inspired to do this, mainly because I wasn't sure how to approach this chapter. Now, though, I am being bold enough to attempt it. Can't guarantee that it'll be any good, but hey! 

Oh and thanks to a friend loaning me Season 3, I've worked out that this particular series is set post-Doppelgangland, but pre-Enemies.

_____________________________________

In the wake of Alexander's revelation of his somewhat unsavoury origins, questions had been flung back and forth around the table at an astonishing rate, Giles and Ethan providing as many answers as they could about the wizarding world, while Alexander toyed absently with a pen.

Draco, meanwhile, had been flashing flirtatious looks around the occupants of the table, which had the effect of making Faith leer at him, Buffy glower, Willow blush, Oz raise an eyebrow and Cordelia shake her head.

"I have a question," Angel said, still intently staring at Alexander. 

Of the group, aside from Giles, Draco and Ethan, he was the person who understood just how dangerous Voldemort had been and seeing the vampire afraid of something had only confirmed to the other teens that Alexander's father wasn't of the good.

"Shoot," the boy waved him on with the pen.

"Is there any chance that you, in any circumstances, would lose control of this power that you have?"

Alexander raised dark eyes without lifting his head. "Probably," he replied quietly, calmly turning the pen over with his fingers. "Why don't you piss me off and we'll see what happens."

"Xander..."

"Giles, he almost killed my mom," Alexander said, his voice crisp with ice. Angel opened his mouth to protest. "Yeah, yeah. We all know the routine. No soul. Wasn't you at all. Had nothing to do with the person you are now... think about it, Angel, old buddy. You can remember wanting to taste her, can't you?"

Angel glared at the boy, but Alexander continued to gaze steadily at him, his eyes nearly black. The pen was twisting rapidly over and over in his fingers, a small smirk lifting one side of his mouth up.

"Prove me wrong, Angel. Tell me you don't remember, then I might believe you."

The vampire tried to match the boy's cold stare, but had to look away. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Alexander muttered. "It's a bit late for that, isn't it?"

Draco snickered. "You really are a stroppy git at times, Snake," he drawled, nudging Alexander in the ribs, his silver-grey eyes glittering with amusement. "Making such a fuss when we have to save the world!" There was a pause. "And I really just said that, didn't I? Someone just kill me now!"

"Could do that," Buffy muttered, glaring at him.

"Now, now, Buffy," Giles chastised gently.

"Giles, he just walks in here and starts insulting me!" Buffy exclaimed, gesturing at the blond youth angrily, her hazel eyes flashing. "Then Ethan does the same! What is it? Pick on Buffy day?"

"You mean you didn't get the memo about that?" Ethan looked shocked. "We were going to bring banners and flags... I do remember ordering a cake... and maybe a few strippers as well, just for fun..."

"Ethan, shut up," Alexander sighed, his face buried in one hand.

The older wizard squeezed his Godson's slumped shoulders. "Sorry, Xander," he said, the sincerity in his voice surprising those around the table. "It's the first time I've been able to come here, be blunt to the Slayer and not get pummelled for it."

"And that's only really because you have your own, personal Xander-shaped shield," Alexander acknowledged tiredly, lowering his hand from his face. "And what's your excuse, Ferret?"

"Pardon me, but being stabbed in the back with a sharpened chunk of wood by a complete stranger when having a good time with a rather nice girl behind a club does tend to make me a little... irritable."

"You stabbed the guy?" Faith interrupted, pointing from Buffy to Draco and back again. "You? Stabbed him?"

"She thought I was undead," Draco smirked, running a hand through his silver hair, his unnaturally pale eyes glinting with amusement in the daylight that was pouring down on the table. "Can't imagine why."

"Actually, Snake, it's because you were you. If I'd known and had a stake, I woulda done the same," Alexander put in, to which Draco smartly raised his middle finger and waved it at him. "And you claim to be a gentleman..."

"How many times do I gotta apologise for that?" Buffy said with chagrin.

Draco gave her a genuine smile. "Just once," he said amiably, leaning back in his seat and interlacing his hands behind his head. "But then you have to tolerate my manly bitching for as long as I feel like."

"Manly bitching? Malfoy, you bitch like a girl."

Giving Ethan a pointed look, Draco sniffed. "Yes," he agreed. "But I do it in style."

"Is he always like that?" Buffy asked Giles and Alexander.

Giles shook his head. "Normally, he is much worse than he is here," he said, which made Draco beam, as if he had just been crowned King of the Earth, the Universe and then some. "On the plus side, he no longer wants to kill you all, after torturing you horribly, because you're muggles, which is progress."

"We're whats?"

"Muggles. Non-magicals," Draco replied. "Lowest human lifeform and so on..."

"And you used to hate us?" Willow asked.

He shrugged. "My father taught me it was the way things were. We were smart and powerful, so we were on top and you plebby little muggles were useless and generally rather pathetic. Of course, I still am superior to you in every way, but I don't think muggles are quite as bad as father said. There are clearly some things he never knew about, so I suppose he was at a slight and rather homicidal disadvantage."

"What changed your mind?"

Draco cleared his throat, looking pointedly up at the ceiling and muttered something that sounded vaguely like, "Montypython."

"Monty Python?" Buffy couldn't help laughing. "You're telling me that some weird British TV show had so much impact on you, it made you change your entire way of thinking of non-magic people?"

"Hey!" Draco protested. "It's funny stuff! I mean, I'm Brian and so's my wife! I'll bite yer legs off! Genius! Pure bloody genius! If you've ever seen wizarding comedy, you'll understand why the Python blokes had such an impact."

"And they changed your whole perception of what muggles are like?"

"Well, unlike wizards, muggles are happy to rip the piss out of their own world, which makes it even funnier. They can admit that their world is far from perfect and make tits of themselves to make it funny. If you did that in the wizarding world, you'd probably have a mob after you, demanding that you get exiled for all eternity."

"Malfoy," Ethan added, a tone of malicious glee in his voice. "I think you forgot something else that made you like the muggle world more than you should."

"No..." The blond man's silvery eyes flashed cautioningly up at Ethan who smirked back down at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "Er... no, Rayne, I'm sure I didn't miss anything..."

"And I'm sure you did..."

"Rayne, I tolerate you, but if you don't shut up, I'm afraid that I may have to follow in my father's footsteps..."

"You mean you don't want them to know about your pathetic addiction to something called soap opera?" Ethan said with a look of mock-innocence, Alexander staring at his friend in disbelief.

Draco shot a malevolent look at Ethan. "You bastard," he said succinctly.

With a hand clamped over his mouth, Giles looked like he was having severe trouble keeping his face straight, as Draco glared pointedly at the other man. "You-you-you like soap operas?"

"I never had a telly growing up and this bloody twat went and sat me in front of the most addictive pieces of crap known to mankind! I'm telling you, Voldemort had nothing on the creators of those bloody programmes! They're pure evil!"

"And here I was, thinkin' you were some kinda mini-evil guy," Faith clicked her tongue, shaking her head mournfully. "That's a real disappointment, Goldielocks. A real disappointment..." 

Draco turned his glare to her. "If Giles hadn't confiscated my wand for the duration of my visit," he said, his eyes hooded. "I'd show you just what kind of 'evil guy' I can be, Slayer the Second."

"What did we tell you about threats, Malfoy?" Giles reminded him.

"You really are a boring old fart, Giles," Draco sighed. "It would only have been the rictusempra or something simple like that."

"And that would be quite bad enough, thank you."

Buffy was studying him. "I'm still having trouble dealing with the idea that there's a whole wizardy kinda world thing that we didn't know anything about... and Draco-guy comes from it."

"Not just Draco," Ethan corrected. "Giles and I both attended the wizarding school that this charming young reprobate," Draco beamed at the description. "Attended. We were... ah... what would be the appropriate word for what happened to us?"

"You were expelled," Giles replied, pursing his lips, removing his glasses and polishing the gleaming lenses on his shirt-front. "I, on the other hand, had to take my training position at the Watchers council."

"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone, old man," Draco chuckled. "And, from what I heard, you were both boring old Huffleduffers, instead illustrious Slytherins. Like me and Snake's daddy. How about that, then, Snake? You're descended from one of the people who built Hogwarts." 

"Hold on a moment..." Giles raised a hand. "What are you talking about?"

"Judging by that, it appears that you didn't know that You-Know-Who was the Heir of Slytherin," Draco remarked dryly. "And seeing as Snake, here, is his only spawn, that makes him Slytherin's heir."

Whatever bones Giles had left seemed to melt and he slumped in the seat. "Dear Lord..." he muttered.

"Is that a big deal?" Willow asked.

"Nah," Draco answered cheerfully. "He was only one of the four greatest wizards of the age, a thousand years back. That quartet, out of thousands, worked together to build a school as a lasting place of learning for wizarding kind."

"So that would mean Xander is pretty damn powerful?" Faith asked.

Alexander sighed. "We covered this already," he said, a note of weary irritation in his voice. "I'm uberpowerful. I don't wanna use it. I don't like it, but it's there and it's always gonna be there."

"There, there, Snake," Draco patted him patronisingly on the head. "It's all right. Daddy Draco will look after you... and why are you all staring at me?"

"Daddy Draco?" Alexander echoed.

"Daddy Draco in the sense that I'll keep my eye on you, until I find out how to drain your powers out of you and use them to take over the world," Draco clarified. "Then I'll kill you in a nice, bloody way."

Shaking his head, Alexander smiled wanly. "You're crazy."

"And your point is?"

"Is that everything we need your friends to know?" Ethan interrupted the spiel, as Draco ducked another slap across the head.

"I-I-I think so," Giles answered for Alexander, who nodded. 

"In that case, I'm gonna head," Faith pushed out from the table.

Giles looked up at her in surprise. "We-we have research to do into the danger that the Mayor appears to pose, Faith. Are you sure it wouldn't be best if you stayed here and helped us?"

Faith looked around the library. "You know," she replied. "I'm really not a geek kinda girl. You guys have fun with your books. I'm gonna go work out... maybe see if I can find some nests. B? Oh! Wait! You got school."

"Thanks for reminding me," Buffy said sourly.

The other Slayer grinned. "You know me, B," she said. "See you guys later." 

With a last flirtatious look at Draco, the dark-haired girl sauntered out of the library and almost collided squarely with Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, her Watcher, ignoring his call and disappearing from sight.

"Mister Giles..."

His back to the younger Watcher, Giles raised his eyes ceilingwards and appeared to count to ten under his breath before turning to face the younger man. "Good morning, Wesley," he said in a monotone.

"Mister Giles," Suspiciously glancing at the smirking blond man at the table, Wesley approached Giles and spoke in a stage whisper. "I demand to know where you have sent Faith! Do I need to remind you that I _am_ her Watcher and, therefore, must be fully informed..."

Giles' withering look made the younger man fall silent. "What gives you any idea that I know where Faith is going?" he inquired, his voice dripping politeness. "After all, you _are_ her Watcher."

"Clearly a great deal of love shared here," Draco murmured, shaking his head, one hand over his heart. "Giles and Giles Junior... it's all rather sweet in a rather sick and perverse way."

Wesley shot a glare at the blond, who matched it with a sneer. The young Watcher immediately quailed, fidgeting uncomfortably with the lapel of his jacket, as he turned his attention back to Giles.

"Well, I-I-I assumed that, since you have quite clearly been holding a conference that I was - once again - not invited to that you may have sent her off, willy-nilly, on some ridiculous mission."

"You know Faith," Buffy interrupted. "She goes where she wants. It's not Giles' job to keep track of her. He was fired... remember?"

Wesley visibly bristled.

"And why would she listen to either of you anyway?" Draco asked, looking from one Watcher to the other curiously. "She was here on a fact-finding mission and just left to go and report it."

"What?" "Pardon?" "Huh?" "Wassat?"

At least four voices raised the question in different ways.

Oz added, "Ditto."

The blond youth looked around the table in surprise. "You're telling me that none of you realised that Faith's working for someone else? Someone else who isn't exactly on your side? Someone who, I would hazard a guess, is the evil individual you are currently working against?"

"I beg your pardon?" Wesley inquired. "Just who are you and what exactly are you talking about?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy, a semi-villain, close personal friend of Snake and pet project of Giles, here," Draco answered candidly, spreading his hands and making an ironic little bow. "I did a lot of fairly nasty things in my youth and can tell when someone else is or was doing the same. That young lady of yours... she was asking too many questions about Snake's dark abilities and if he would use them."

"Snake?"

"A rather powerful wizard."

"So you're saying...?"

Draco gave Giles a look that clearly said he shared the group opinion on the younger Watcher. Hiding a smirk behind his hand, Giles shook his head, motioning for him to answer the question. 

"What I'm saying," Draco answered very slowly, making it clear that he thought Wesley was less than bright. "Is that your lovely Slayer is now a spy for the Dark Side and she knows that the most powerful wizard this century is currently sitting at this table and I'm under no illusions that she has just trotted off to inform her employer, who is no doubt this chap bent on taking over the world. Is any of this getting through or do you require a simple diagram?"

"But Faith... she's a Slayer..."

"And a killer," Angel said quietly. "I knew it affected her badly, but for her to turn to the Dark Side..."

"Hold on," Draco raised a hand, a questioning look on his face. "You're telling me she killed someone and that didn't raise a sign in big flashing lights that said 'Hello, I'm a maniac'? Do you people even have one brain cell among you?" He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm starting to wonder if judging muggles on the credentials of Monty Python was a bad idea..."

"It was an accident," Buffy said, her tone harsh. "She hit him with her stake before she could pull back."

"Rather like you did last night..." the blond acknowledged. Buffy closed her eyes and nodded. "I suppose it is easily done, but honestly! What could possibly have made her hate you lot so much that she would go to someone else for... well, not help, but... support, I suppose. Like Watcher Senior gave me."

All eyes turned towards Wesley, who was fidgeting even more.

"Oh, this is just priceless. The mini-Giles did something?"

"Only forcibly took her captive, when she was in Angel-therapy," Buffy answered with a dark look in Wesley's direction. "And he was about to have her extradited to stand trial in England. Then, damn, she escaped."

"I-I-I simply followed council procedure," Wesley stammered, then stiffened his back, waving a hand imperiously in Draco's direction. "And for all you know, this... cocksure individual could be the one who is in the employ of the Mayor! Why should we trust him?"

"Trust me? I wouldn't do that if you paid me a million galleons!" Draco shuddered, pulling a face. "Trust... nasty word."

"You see!" Wesley exclaimed.

Alexander raised his eyes. "Wesley, if it came down to it," he said coolly. "I would trust Draco with my life more than I would trust you to say something without putting your foot in it."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Snake? You know what they say about dragons..."

"Actually, I don't. What do they say?"

"Oh... bugger..."

Alexander gave his friend an amused look. "You were just hoping I would know something wise about dragons, weren't you?" The blond shrugged helplessly. "You are so weird."

"Thank you, Snake."

Wesley cleared his throat. "I beg your pardon, but would someone be kind enough to tell me what's going on here?"

"Did you miss the entire speech about Faith knowing about a super-powerful wizard, Wes?" Buffy challenged, standing up and folding her arms. "Why would she be so keen to run off, if she didn't have someone to share the news with, like Draco said?"

"Thank you, Slayer," the blond youth said, inclining his head to her.

The younger Watcher looked at the blond man with distaste. "You're informing me that this... ruffian is, in fact, a powerful wizard?"

Draco smirked. "Wizard, yes, powerful... not as much as a certain individual around here. Tell me, Mini-Giles..."

"My name," Wesley gritted out. "Is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce."

"And it's really wonderful that you feel so strongly about it, Mini-Giles," Draco said in the tone of a teacher speaking to a sullen child. "But tell me, have you ever heard of someone called Lord Voldemort?"

Judging by the fact that Wesley's face turned the colour of sour milk, everyone at the table accepted his response to be an affirmative.

"Well, Mister Wyndham-Pryce," Draco leaned over and clapped Alexander on the shoulder with a broad smile. "You're looking at the one and only son and heir of the lovely wizard known as Voldemort."

"You...?"

"No, that would be Snake here," Draco replied. "The tall, dark and dim individual beside me."

"Thanks," Alexander said, pulling a face. "I appreciate that."

"Thought you might," Draco responded, grinning.

Wesley looked at Alexander, then back at Draco sceptically. "If you find it amusing to try and keep me in the dark regarding the situation," he said, raising his eyes to Giles, a hurt note in his voice. "Then I..."

"He's not joking, Wesley," Giles said calmly. Wesley went a little whiter. "Xander is Voldemort's Heir and, if Draco's assessment of Faith's behaviour proves accurate, the leading demon power in Sunnydale is likely to know about it. I believe he may be right and I trust his judgement."

"Why, Giles!" Draco clapped a hand to his heart. "I'm touched! And you know, I think I'm right too. This Mayor chap is probably receiving the news now and if he's as powerful as you all think he could be, he would either want Snake out of the way or onside with him..."

"So I'm going to be his new favourite choice of toy because of who I am and how powerful I might be," Alexander said grimly. "For the record, I hate my father." 

Draco nodded in agreement. "And so say all of us."

_________________________________________

AN: First, don't lynch me for what I did with dear, sweet little Wesley - he's S3 Wesley, which means he's still an annoying prat up until the last episodes of the season (I was watching his first ep. last night and was reminded strongly about how much I love Giles ("You're not helping." "I know. I feel just sick about it." - gotta love snarky Giles!)). Aside from that, whooha! We're leading into the plot :D


	9. Unexpected Hitch

Legacy of the Fathers

Unexpected Hitch

Notes: Once more, as usual, apologies for the delay on this chapter. I finally got my little dissertation thing out of the way - 11,760 words - and then my brain shut down and refused to write a thing more. I'm just getting back into the writing thing after a week long break. P.S. Alexander is going to become Xander in this chapter - I'm more familiar with him that way.

______________________________

With the Scooby Gang scattered from the library to attend their classes, only Xander remained in the library with Giles, Ethan Rayne, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, Angel and Draco, two of whom were treating him like glass, the two more like a poisonous snake and the fifth...

Well, the fifth was making paper broomsticks out of twelfth century manuscripts, while their owner was distracted, and was tossing them across the room, aiming for the bin that stood next to one of the bookshelves.

There were at least a dozen brooms scattered on the floor already. 

"So you've never had any inclination to use your magic?"

Xander scowled up at Angel, drumming his fingertips on the tabletop. "Again with the no," he replied, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "But you're kinda making me change my mind."

"You know," Draco Malfoy added with an amused look from vampire to young human and back, still folding yet another broom. He tossed it, punching air when it landed in the bin. "I think that's a hint to shut up."

"I-I still can't quite understand this," Wesley stammered. He had taken the seat as far as possible from Xander and looked like he was contemplating the distance to the door, lest he needed to flee. "If Voldemort had an Heir..."

"Surely the Council and Wizarding world would have shared the information about it?" Giles cut in, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Yes, we have covered all of this, Wesley. Xander's mother didn't want her son taken by Voldemort, so she concealed him here with aid from Ethan."

Wesley looked faintly from Xander to the two older men, then back at the sullen teenager. "Voldemort's heir..." he whispered, shaking his head. "On a Hellmouth... absolutely dreadful... must inform..."

"You say 'inform the council'," Giles snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking at the younger Watcher. "And I will take great pleasure in finding Buffy's bluntest stake and introducing it to your arse!"

Wesley went white as a sheet, but Draco snickered. "I think you need to work on a little something called subtlety, Giles," he suggested with a half-grin. "Unless you make it your life's pursuit to make younger watchers piss their pants in terror. In that case, you really are rather good at it."

Green eyes flashed in caution at Draco, who raised his hands, still smirking. "It is imperative," Giles said coolly. "That the council does not learn that Voldemort had an heir. If they did, I believe that the repercussions would be... unpleasant." 

"Translation?" Xander asked quietly, watching the shadows his fingers were casting on the surface of the table.

"I-I-I'm not certain..."

Dark brown eyes rose. "Giles."

"You... you would most likely be perceived as a serious threat," the watcher said haltingly, studying the glasses in his hand intently. "As you are a human being, it would violate the Watchers' code to harm you, but there is a team who... well, they remain unmentionable."

"And they do the council dirty work?"

"So I have heard," Giles cautiously admitted. 

Xander's hand curled into a fist on the tabletop. "And if they found out about me and who I am, they wouldn't mind sending these unmentionable guys to pay me a visit, even if I'm backing you guys up?"

"That might not be..." Giles trailed off uselessly at the teenager's raised eyebrows, spreading his hands. "I don't wish to sound discouraging, Xander, but I am afraid that you would be in grave danger."

"Yay. Another day on the Hellmouth... only worse."

"Which is why," Ethan said with a cold look at Wesley. "This stuck up little ponce isn't going to breathe a word about any of it. That is, if he wants to keep his face in it's current shape and location."

"Ooh! Threats! Do it again! I like them!" The excited exclamation from Draco drew four pointed stares. He stared back, blinking. "What? Do I have to keep on telling you that I'm not nice? Why does everyone assume that because I lower myself to Snake's level, because he's going to help me take over the world, I'm a nice bloke?"

Xander's lips rose in a faint smile. "It's the hair, Ferret. Anyone with as many hair care products as you can't be a real big bad. You'd spend way too much time in front of the mirror."

"At least I make the effort, Snake," Draco countered with a grin. "Which is much more than I can say for you."

Raising a hand, the dark-haired teenager half-heartedly swatted his friend. "You're a jerk, Ferret."

"Yes, but I'm a damnable sexy one."

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "Malfoy, you're incorrigible."

Draco beamed at the commendation. "Thank you, Rayne."

"Giles," Xander's voice, shaking and deadly serious, overlapped his friend's. Brown eyes rose to Giles from the table again. "If the Wizarding world knows about me now, wouldn't they tell the Council?"

The Watcher's face paled. "I-I didn't think to check..."

"You think that old Stone would let slip about this?" Draco demanded, shaking his head. "You obviously didn't pay much attention to the man, Giles. He's the one who keeps the Council up to date on things and I suspect he liked Snake a little too much to want to get him in that kind of trouble."

"Yes, but he's not the only one who knows about me, Ferret," Xander corrected, his voice laced with anxiety and exhaustion. " A lot of people saw me admitting to being Voldemort's son. Any one of them could slip up and mention it to the wrong person, who could mention it to someone else."

Giles rubbed his forehead. "Yes... yes... that is a possibility," he admitted. "But if we make absolutely certain no one on this end spread the word, at least we can contain your location and identity a little longer."

This was all said with a sharp look in Wesley's direction.

Pressing the heels of his hands against his forehead, Xander's face creased in pain. "I didn't want any of this," he whispered, his voice shaking. Draco glanced sidelong, at a lamp on the table, which had started rattling. "Any of this..."

"We know, Xander," Ethan said softly. "No one wanted this to happen to you. If your mother could have stopped it, she would have."

The rattling of the lamp grew more violent, but Draco appeared to be the only one who had noticed.

"But it happened, didn't it?"

"Er... Snake?"

"Don't start lecturing me, Ferret! I don't need you giving me speeches as well!"

"Um... right..." Draco jerked his head towards the lamp, which was bouncing on the table, then slowly slid off his chair, aware that he was on the receiving end of a funny look from both Giles and Ethan.

"Xander, it's too late to change things now."

"I _know_!" Xander's voice rose to a shout and Draco hunched his arms over his head beneath the table. "Don't you think I don't know that? Do you think I would be this crazy if I knew I could change things and bring my mom back? Do you think I wouldn't kill him sooner?!"

The blast of the lamp was muted by the sound of every window in the whole library exploding outwards simultaneously, glass spraying everywhere, tinkling as it rattled on the floor, sharp curses sounding from the four men by the table.

Edging out, Draco immediately moved to Xander's side, the dark-haired teenager staring around in horror at the demolition he had caused, apparently oblivious to the shards of glass embedded in his face. 

Giles had apparently ducked in time, sprayed with a fine shower of fragments, while Ethan was lying on the floor beside the counter, a few cuts dashing his face. Wesley had been seated beneath the nearest window and had been covered liberally in sharp needles of glass. Worst, though, was Angel, who was picking large splinters of the lamp from his torso.

"Snake?"

"Oh crap... oh crap, oh crap, oh crap..."

"Snake, can you hear me?"

"Oh, crap... I didn't mean to..." His head was snapped round by a feeble punch on the jaw and he blinked, looking up to find Draco hopping from foot to foot, clutching his fist in pain. "F-Ferret?"

"Good. You're still with us mentally... sort of," Draco said firmly, rubbing his knuckles. "You've not gone all catatonic on us. I've seen that before and it's really not the best way to spend an afternoon."

"I...I did this."

The blond nodded around, an impressed look on his face. "Yeah," he observed, taking in the vacant windows and the fragments that covered the table and floor. "And it was a very thorough job as well."

"Are... I-I don't get it... you guys..." Xander looked at Giles and Ethan who had just struggled back to his feet, panic on his face. "Giles, I don't know what happened. How did I do it? I did do that, right? I... oh God... you're bleeding..."

Giles' fingers came to his face, touching a narrow cut that was flecked across his cheekbone, bleeding slightly. "It's nothing, Xander," he said gently, taking a step towards the teenager. "Are you all right?"

"I-I did this... me... with magic..."

"Yes, yes you did," Giles said, firmly but gently. "But that doesn't matter now. Are you all right?"

Xander nodded nervously, licking his lips and looking around. "What happened?"

"You were angry, Snake," Draco said, laying a hand on Xander's shoulder. "I don't blame you. You just never learned how to control your magic when you're angry and this is what happened because of it."

"Oh God... will it happen again?"

"Not if you try and stay calm when you get angry, Xander," Ethan added, brushing glass from his hair. "I know I got into a lot of trouble at school because I kept losing my temper and blowing things up."

"And if he can't stay calm?" Angel's voice interrupted coldly. The vampire pulled a shard of metal from his shoulder, wincing. "What if someone else is standing where I was this time? Someone who isn't undead?"

The colour drained from Xander's face. "Shit..."

"Don't worry, Snake," Draco shot a venomous look in the direction of the vampire, his hand lightly squeezing Xander's shoulder. "I'll stick around and if you look like you're about to blow things up, I'll smack you on the head and let you spend a little while passed out on the floor." He flashed a gallant grin at Xander. "It'll make you feel better."

Angel looked doubtful, but Xander nodded. "Thanks, Ferret." 

"And on that note," Draco said, straightening up and grabbing Xander securely by the arm. "Snake and I are going to go for a little walk and maybe find some nice little bimbos to kiss him better."

"Ferret..."

"Oh, shut up, Snake. Humour your charming guest and find him some pretty people to keep him busy," Draco tugged on Xander's arm, but Xander gave him a look, remaining exactly where he was. "Oh, come on, Snake!" he whined. "I want to go and have some fun with some people who aren't actually starting to decay already! It's never going to happen with all these old farts around."

"You'll have to give me a better reason to leave with me in this..."

"Alex," Draco's voice turned serious. "You want to stay here and get more angry? We need to find somewhere for you to let off some steam, all right?"

Xander flashed a quick look up at him, then slowly nodded, pushing his chair out from the table and getting to his feet. "We're going out," he said with a vague wave in the direction of the door. "Don't know when we'll be back."

Giles nodded at once. "You will take care?"

"Don't I always?" Xander replied, a little sadly. "See you guys later. And sorry."

Draco waved, walking backwards, as they started towards the door. "And if we're not back by midnight, check the news! You might hear something about our takeover of the rest of the States!"

"Ferret, you're crazy."

"Snake, you're... well... there are simply too many insults about you, your sexual preference, your hair colour, your clothes and so on to choose from. I would hate to rupture your tiny brain with the overload, so just pick the worst and deal with it."

Xander's shaking laugh rang back to the adults present a moment before the doors swung closed behind him and Draco.

As soon as he was sure his Godson was gone, Ethan all but fell into one of the seats, uttering a curse under his breath. "This really isn't a good sign, is it, Ripper?" he said, picking shards of glass from his hands.

"Apparently not," Giles agreed grimly.

"I would say that was a statement of the obvious," Angel said, his voice bitter, a hand on his shoulder to stave the bleeding. "If you don't mind, I'll go for now. I'll need some blood and I don't think you have any here."

Giles nodded, removing his glasses and placing them on the table. He ran his hands through his hair. "I'll let Buffy know," he said quietly. The vampire nodded once, then seemed to simply merge into the shadows, out of sight.

A brief silence hung on the air, the only sound the birdsong outside the room, until Wesley gained his voice.

"And you're saying that boy isn't dangerous?" Wesley's voice seemed to have risen several octaves. "For God's sake, man, he blew the library to pieces and you just let him walk out of here, as if nothing had happened!"

Giles gave the younger Watcher a look. "Would you have stood in front of him and ordered him to remain here, in that state?" Opening and shutting his mouth several times, Wesley finally shook his head. "And you will not be informing the council of this situation. Do I make myself clear?"

"They wouldn't harm..."

"Wesley, do try to think before you speak," Giles said impatiently. "Use your head! Of course, they would harm him. He has more power than most wizards alive today, uncontrolled and only intensified by the Hellmouth. Do you honestly believe the Council would allow him to roam free?"

"But they are..."

"They _seem_ respectable and decent," Giles corrected, his tone gentling somewhat, his voice weary. "Believe me, Wesley, they would do whatever they deem necessary to be rid of any threat and Xander now qualifies as one."

Wesley looked like he wanted to argue, but nodded. "I won't inform them," he said, but added pointedly. "Unless something else of this kind happens. If he becomes a danger to us..."

"Then, by all means, they can try to contain him, but that boy will never be a real threat to them," Giles said in a confident tone. Only Ethan could tell that he was lying through his teeth.

***

"All right, then. Park yourself," Dropping down onto the bench obediently, squinting in the morning sunlight, Xander winced as Draco started tugging bits of glass from his face and neck. "You all right?"

"Sure."

Draco raised his brows. "Snake."

Xander exhaled a breath. "Okay, maybe not so much with the all right, then," he replied, closing his eyes. "I don't want this. I don't need it. If you want what I have, take it. I just want to be normal again."

"Something tells me you were never normal, Snake." Xander opened his eyes to see a look of sympathy on Draco's face. "You've always had this power, you know. You just never had the inclination to use it."

"Do I have to keep it?"

Draco's expression twisted slightly, as if he couldn't believe someone would want to give up their magical abilities. "As far as we know, there's no way for magic to be removed from a person. The best thing you can hope for is learning to control it."

Shaking his head, Xander shivered violently. "What if... what if I turn into him?"

"You could never do that, Snake. I've known you what? A month? And I know for a fact that you're nothing like him."

Xander laughed, a harsh, hollow sound. "You're wrong," he said, a distinct tremor in his voice. "I... I wasn't joking when I said that I killed him. They think I'm the only person who was strong enough... stronger than him."

Draco's pale face seemed to drain of any trace of colour, going a strange shade of grey. Sitting down heavily on the bench beside his friend, he stared at Xander. "You... you're telling me you killed Voldemort?"

"Yeah," His hands caught between his knees, hunched over them, Xander squeezed his eyes shut. "I-I went to Azkaban before mom died... saw him... spoke to him... he... he was bad... I had the chance to stop him ever hurting anyone again, I knew it. I-I had Ethan's wand... just said the words and he was gone... I killed my father."

Unsure what to say, Draco touched Xander's shoulder reassuringly. After a moment of silence, he sighed. 

"You had good intentions, Alex," he said gravely. "You did what you had to for the right reasons. If you'd left him there, he would have come back again and would have kept on coming. You stopped him."

Xander made a nearly-incoherent whimpering sound in his throat, his expression tightening in pain. It was the expression of one struggling hard, trying to keep tears under his control.

"S'all right, Alex," Draco said quietly, squeezing Xander's shoulder. "You can let it out, if you want."

In the middle of the High School's quad, cheerful sunlight mockingly stroking over him, accompanied only by one of the former allies of his father, the Dark Lord, Xander Harris buried his face in his hands and wept.

***

"Yes, sir, the explosion was here. Yes, yes. We released the information that there was a gas leak. Where? In the library. Yes, I'm sure, sir. Something blew the windows out, but we aren't sure what. I would say that Summers was involved, but she was in class at the time."

The voice on the end of the line fell silent for a moment. 

"Sir?" Snyder inquired cautiously.

He heard the Mayor chuckle on the other end. "Be sure to let me know if anything else suspicious happens, Mr. Snyder," he said in a unctuous, jovial voice. "After all, we wouldn't want any of those crazy little kids of yours getting in any kind of trouble, would we?"

"O-of course not, sir," Snyder stammered. "I-I'll keep you informed. I'm sure everything will be all right."

The Mayor's laugh was cool, unnerving, and sent a prickle of unease down the back of Principal Snyder's neck. He shivered. "Oh, I'm certain everything is just gonna be perfect, Mr. Snyder. Just fine."


	10. Truth and Whispers

Legacy of the Fathers

Truth and Whispers

Notes: Yes, I know, I know. It's been a long time since I updated this (3 months, correct?) but life has been hectic beyond belief for me. I've moved twice, I've had friends visiting, then visited friends, I've graduated and I've been working full time in a job that ensures I am pretty much dead on my feet on my off days. I'm, presently aching from a nightmarish shift, so any inconsistencies in this can be blamed on that. Not that I'm making excuses, nope nope. : P

____________________________________

"I hate this country."

Brown eyes rose from the sidewalk, where they had been watching their owner's sneaker-clad toes scuffing along the ground. "Hmm?"

Draco flashed an agitated look at Xander, scowling as he raised a hand to wipe sheen of sweat from his forehead. "This damnably marvellous country of yours, you twit," he replied, his tone snippy. "This oversized landmass filled with equally oversized blithering idiots and, of course, _you_. I despise it. I despise everything about it. It's crude, crass, filled with some of the most inconsequential, brain-dead imbeciles known to mankind and _it's so bloody hot_!" At Xander's faint smile, Draco's scowl only deepened. "And could you at least try to walk like something more advanced than a Neanderthal? I do have a reputation and an appearance to keep up and with sweating like a pig; it really is becoming quite difficult already without you making me look even worse than before!"

"Not feeling so good, huh?"

Draco stopped short beside him, turning slowly and deliberately to stare at the dark-haired boy. His silky hair was plastered against his cheeks, which were strangely flushed compared to their usual paleness. "Do you really want me to go mad, Snake?"

The wan smile on Xander's lips remained. "It's not really like it would make any difference, Ferret," he replied, to which Draco managed to find a faint grin, pushing his damp hair back from his cheeks.

"And if I may ask, Snake," the fair-haired boy said. "How the devil do you wear so many clothes," He indicated vaguely to Xander's numerous layers of shirts and T-shirts. "And Hestay on your feet in this weather? I've never been anywhere that more felt like an incinerator. Or Hell. I can't be sure which."

An amused look was directed at him. "This is a cool day for summer," Xander replied, suppressing a grin as Draco uttered a loud and very indecent expletive. "Not used to this kind of temperature, huh?"

"My God! Did my sweating buckets give it away?"

"Sarcasm, Ferret. I told you before and I'll tell you again."

"I know, I know. Lowest form of humour, but it still surpasses anything you have."

"Ass."

"Yes, I have one of them too."

Reluctant grins were exchanged as the two boys turned on the corner of a block, taking a short cut across the dried grass of a lawn, Draco making a somewhat impolite gesture when the owner of the lawn yelled through the window at them.

Xander shook his head. "You know that bugging the people who live here isn't a good idea, right?" he said, grasping one of Draco's arms and hauling him off the lawn and back onto the sidewalk.

"Snake, I survived your father, I survived my father and most importantly, I survived a month of Rayne's company. Do you honestly think that I'm going to be scared of a nice, normal South Californian granny?"

Xander laughed softly. "Well, I guess it makes sense, but can you answer this – did any of those guys ever keep a rifle under their bed?"

"Rifle?" Draco looked at him in confusion. "What's one of those?"

"A gun?" Xander offered, at which the frown on Draco's face only deepened.

"Um…"

"Don't tell me you don't know what a gun is," Xander couldn't help laughing aloud at the thought that someone like Draco did not know what a gun was, but the sound died in his throat at the look of embarrassment that crossed Draco's face. 

"When you're raised by someone like my father," the wizard said, watching his feet as they made their way along the sidewalk, "there are a lot of things that you don't know about and, if that is a Muggle thing, then a gun is one of those things."

Nodding, Xander gave his friend an apologetic look. "Yeah, it's a Muggle thing," he said, raising a hand to run through his tangled hair. "It's a weapon. You… uh… shoot things with it."

"Like firing a spell at someone?" Draco perked up, starting to understand a little.

"Almost," Xander agreed. "But guns are made of metal and they fire bullet… uh… other bits of metal at people or whatever you shoot them at."

Beside him, Draco stopped walking and Xander turned to look at him, shocked by the look of revulsion and horror on the wizard's face. "You have weapons that fire pieces of metal into… people? To kill and maim them?"

"Uh… I-I guess so."

"My God," Draco whispered, shaking his head and running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair again, as if hardly able to comprehend what he was hearing. "And you wonder why the wizarding world finds the Muggle world uncivilised when you use such a thing in this day and age! Our spells can be painful and deadly, yes, but firing metal into flesh without knowing just how accurate the results will be…" He shuddered violently. "At least our spells grant some measure of precision. That gun… thing is just cruel."

Heat rose in Xander's face, as if – for the first time – he was embarrassed by his Muggle-origins. "I never thought of it that way," he said quietly, looking away as they started to walk again. "It's the way things have been for years."

"Mmm."

In silence, they walked a little further, then Draco glanced at his friend, mopping sweat from his brow again. "And your Slayer," he inquired softly. "Does she use one of these gun-things?"

"Buffy? No. She uses older weapons."

"Older?"

"Crossbows, swords, axes… you do know what those are, right?"

"I'm a wizard, Snake, not a bloody imbecile!"

Xander chuckled at the older youth's tone. "Let me guess," he said, thrusting his hands deeper into the pockets of his baggy jeans. "You only know about them because of Monty Python?"

"Well, that is… sort of… maybe… true-ish."

"True-ish?"

"All right, all right," Draco groaned. "Yes, I know what those weapons are because of the Holy Grail, but we aren't that behind, you idiot. We do have such things, from the past of our world, when they were still Muggle-lovers and idiots. And to even think of your precious little Goldielocks using those kinds of things…" There was a snort of amusement. "It presents a very odd image to picture her armed with such weapons." 

Xander's smile was lop-sided. "Just wait until you see her fighting. I never thought I'd see anything like it outside of an action movie."

"Good, eh?"

"The best," Xander replied honestly. "For her to survive this long as a Slayer, she has to be."

There was a long moment of silence, as they made their way down the block. Xander glanced at his friend occasionally, as Draco's silver-grey eyes roamed the street around them, his curiosity and half-masked fascination drinking in everything around him, the lack of magic doing nothing to put him off.

"You sure you want to do this, Ferret?" The blond looked at him, as they came to a halt outside a house that looked identical to every other house on the block, the look of bitterness and pain on Xander's features saying more than words could.

"I think the better question is do you want to do this, Snake?"

Deep in his pockets, Xander's hands fisted into tight knots. "I need to, Ferret," he said in a monotone. "I need to cut every tie I had with him. I just want to get mom's things and leave."

"And if he plays the stupid bastard, can I hurt him?"

Xander sighed, shaking his head, although he was hard-pressed not to smile at his friend's eager tone. "You don't have your wand."

"I don't need my wand, Snake. A blunt object would work just as well on someone like him." Draco replied evenly, coolly. "But any man who treats a woman like he did doesn't deserve a painless and precise attack by magic."

"You know, for a bad guy, you have a very weird way of looking at thing. It's almost good-guy-y."

"'Good-guy-y'?" Draco echoed, staring at him. "Snake, you're a freak of nature and one of these days, I will take great pleasure in double-crossing and betraying you in a vile fashion."

There was a pause.

"Did saying that make you feel better?" Xander asked, eyes glinting.

"Yeah, a little," Draco replied, smirking. He nodded towards the house. "Want to get this over with?"

"Better do it before I change my mind."

Side by side, they walked across the yard to the front door, Xander's face scored with trepidation. Both recoiled when the door was yanked open by Robert Harris, his jowly face red and his expression furious. His shirt collar was soaked in sweat, his thinning dark hair slick and dark against his scalp.

"You ungrateful son of a bitch!" Xander was caught by the front of his shirt and yanked savagely up the two steps that separated him from his stepfather. "Where the hell is your mom! I come home and she's gone without a word! If I find out that whore has been screwing around, then I'll…"

"Pardon me," Draco's voice interrupted, ice cold and civil. "But put him the hell down and get the hell away from us."

Not relinquishing his hold on Xander's shirt, Harris' dark, piggy eyes locked onto Draco's face, his expression growing darker. He seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that Xander's seemed to have tensed in his grip, his hands balled and his body shaking violently. "And who the hell are you?"

"Not someone you want to be on the wrong side of, I assure you," Draco sneered, his expression one of utter loathing for the man before him, stalking up the two steps and forcing Harris back with more strength than he looked like he possessed. "Now get out of our way."

Harris' bloated face purpled with fury, the hand that had been gripping Xander catching Draco by the shirt and pulling him closer, the scent of beer thick on the older man's breath. "Don't you tell me what I should and shouldn't do, boy!" he snarled, spittle spraying Draco's face. "Just who do you think you are to talk to me like this, you piece of shit?"

Silver-grey eyes stared at him contemptuously, Draco's upper lip curling in wordless distaste. "I wouldn't waste my breath or energy explaining my identity nor my presence to you, you self-absorbed, mentally-incompetent plebeian sot. Suffice it to say that you're going to get out of my way before you annoy me or," he nodded sharply towards Xander, who seemed to be panting for air, his eyes pressed closed, shaking hard. "Worse than that, my good friend Alex."

"What did you call me?" Harris' voice rose to a roar and Draco was physically dragged across the thresh hold, thrown hard against the door. Still, he didn't fight, his cold eyes never leaving Harris' face.

"You heard me, you inconsequential maggot," Draco's voice was ice-hard. "I saw your wife, you know. I saw what was left of her. I heard what you did to her. You think you have any right to call yourself a muggle, much less a human?"

"Had herself a screwtoy, did she? I'll kill you, you little bastard!" the man bellowed, pulling his fist back to launch at Draco's head. 

Seeker reflexes honed by years of competitiveness in Quidditch with Potter dropped Draco quickly out of harm's way, almost ripping his shirt off his back as he pulled free. Harris' fist connected with the doorframe enough to shatter the wood, a howl of agony escaping the man.

Rolling casually onto his feet, Draco straightened up and smoothed down his clothing and hair as if nothing untoward had happened, as Robert Harris sagged to his knees, clutching his broken and bloody fist.

"You tore my shirt, you imbecile!" the wizard exclaimed, looking at the ragged rip that ran from his collar to halfway down his chest. Smoothing the fabric, he sighed impatiently and planted a solid kick to Harris' chest. "Bastard." Glancing out the door towards Xander, where he was leaning against the rail of the terrace, his head buried in his hands, the fair-haired youth tilted his head. "Snake? You all right out there?"

"I don't know if I can do this, Ferret," he said hoarsely. "I…"

"Snake!" Draco's voice was sharp. Stepping out, he hauled Xander into the house. "I just made your sodding step-father break his own fist! Come on! You come and kick him while he's down. It'll be fun!"

"What the hell are you doing back here, Alexander?" Robert Harris' voice was raw as he staggered to his feet. "Where the hell is your mother? Who the hell is this son of a bitch?"

"Don't you start on me again, you overweight tub of lard," Draco snorted, taking a warning step towards the man, who pulled back, glaring darkly at both of them.

"Ferret," Xander's voice was tremulous as he spoke, but harder than it had been. He touched Draco's arm, steering his friend to one side, the look of disgust on his face directed solely at his stepfather. "I think I should… talk to him."

"When you say 'talk', you actually mean 'rip the skin off him with a blunt spoon', don't you?" Draco inquired hopefully. Xander directed a pointed look at him and the fair boy raised his hands in submission. "All right, all right, let's not make a scene, though. Fat arse, into the living room." Harris glowered at him, but still jumped back several paces when Draco took a threatening step in his direction. Closing the front door, the wizard smiled coolly. "Thank you."

"You're not gonna get away with treatin' me like this."

"Shut up." Xander's voice was cold, quiet and hard.

"What did you say to me, boy?"

Dark brown eyes flashed furious fire. "I said," he repeated sharply, "Shut up! You think you have any right to talk to me about what we can and can't do here? After what you did to mom and me?"

"Your mom is…"

"Don't you talk about my mother, you bastard," Xander was shaking violently, his hands clenched by his sides. "She's dead." Harris, strangely, looked shocked and hurt by the news. "Yeah. Didn't know that, did you?"

"Cassie? Dead?" 

"Dead." Xander confirmed hollowly, turning away, his fists whitened to the point of bone rupturing skin. "Because of my real father. The wizard."

Robert Harris' face drained of colour. Stumbling back heavily against the couch, he stared at the boy he had called his son. "She wasn't lying about him," he croaked, one hand rising to his throat, as if an unseen hand was throttling him.

"No. She wasn't lying." Dark brown eyes, full of loathing, rose from the floor and stared at Harris with an intensity, which would have sent most cowering. The aura of power surrounding the boy was palpable, even to the most insensible of souls. "And they gave that power they had to me."

What anger and confusion was left in Harris' round, sweat-gleaming face was rapidly replaced with fear. Backing away from Xander, he raised his hands. "Now, look, boy! Didn't I raise you? Didn't I put food on the table and keep you?"

"You make me sound like a stray dog," Xander didn't move from where he stood, his expression bleak. "You treated us like that. You had mom, the best woman in the world, and you treated us like that."

Standing several paces behind Xander, Draco glanced sidelong as a lamp on the dresser started to quiver. "Snake, you might want to calm down a little," he suggested mildly, taking a step towards Xander.

"Yeah," Harris nodded desperately towards Draco. "Listen to the blond kid."

The fair-haired wizard's lip curled. "Don't you ever refer to me thus, Muggle," he said coldly. "I'm only here to stop Snake from doing something he'll regret. If the matter was in my hands, your carcass would be rotting already."

"Draco."

Laying a hand on Xander's shoulder, the wizard continued to glare at Harris. "It's only because of you that he's still standing, Snake," he said quietly. "You just give the word and I'll do what I think he deserves."

Speculation passed briefly across the darker boy's face.

"Don't you dare!" Harris yelped frantically, looking from one to the other, his bloody fist pulled up to his chest. "You're nothing to do with me, Alexander! Just because your mother was a damn fool doesn't mean you can blame me! You or your boyfriend!"

"Did he just insult my taste?" Draco inquired, arching a brow.

Xander didn't seem to register the question, his jaw tightening, the muscle in his cheek twitching visibly beneath his skin. His whole body seemed to have gone rigid, his hands clenching and unclenching.

"Don't talk about my mom like that," he hissed, his features contorting, lips peeling back from his teeth.

"Um… Snake?" Draco tugged on the other boy's sleeve. "I'm starting to see why this might not have been such a good idea."

On the other side of the room, the television's picture was crackling, stripes of static obscuring the image. Beer glasses bounced and rattled on the table on the other side of the couch and, by now, the lamp was clattering violently, closer and closer to the edge of the dresser.

"You hurt her," Xander's voice was flat, strangely devoid of emotion. "You hurt her every time you even looked at her. I could never try to hurt you. You were so much bigger than I was." His hands flexed by his sides. "But not anymore."

"Snake, don't even think about doing it…"

"What? This?"

The expulsion of power and sheer, pure, potent anger rocked the whole block of houses to the foundations, the windows of the house blasted outwards from the sheer force of Xander Harris' emotions.

Standing amid the rubble of the living room, Draco brushed some chips of plaster from his shoulders. "Quite," he replied. 

***

"The report just came in, sir. It was him."

"Are you sure that it has gone no further than our department?"

The Auror nodded. "Unfortunately, tongues tend to wag, sir, so we can't guarantee that word won't have spread. After all, wandless magic is bad enough in underage wizards, but in adults… it's so rare that it tends to make waves"

"Yes, yes, I know." A dismissive gesture sent the younger Auror from the elder's sight, the man sitting at the desk picking up the dossier containing news from the Western Seaboard, where the incident had taken place, less than… fifteen minutes before the file had reached him.

The boy was meant to be under constant supervision to ensure that things like those featured in this report did not happen, which meant problems had no doubt arisen for those keeping an eye on him. 

The Head Auror exhaled, spreading his hand on the top page of the folder.

So far, they had managed to keep the identity and location of the Heir of the Dark Lord a closely guarded secret. However, if the boy kept behaving in the way he was now, then he would give himself away and the media frenzy would no doubt result in even more chaos than was already ensuing.

Curling his scarred hand into a fist, Benjamin Stone closed his eyes. He had hoped that with the wiping clear of the boy's identity, it would all be over, but now, it was clear that it was far from that.

Rising from his desk, he glanced to the massive map that covered half of his wall. 

All of his life, he had avoided centres of mystical convergence, as many of their kind did, simply because of the intensity of the darkness there, but now… now, he had to go to one, of his own accord.

Of course, though, he would not be going alone.

_________________________________________

Author's Notes: Once more, apologies for the delay on this chapter. Like I said, life has been hectic. And yay! Ben Stone is back! There are no words for how much I adore him :D


End file.
